LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



1 






\ 




Sarah M. Victor. 



THE LIFE STORY 



OF 



SARAH M. VICTOR 



FOR SIXTY YEARS. 

CONVICTED OF MURDERING HER BROTHER, 

SENTENCED TO BE HUNG, 

HAD SENTENCE COMMUTED, 

PASSED NINETEEN YEARS IN PRISON, 

YET IS INNOCENT. 

TOLD BY HERSELF. 

L'homme propose, et Dieu dispose. 



xc 



CLEVELAND, O : 

The Williams Publishing Co. 

1887. 







Ay* 






i 




Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1887 \ 

By Harriet L. Adams, 

In the office of the Librarian of Congress, 

at Washington, V. C. 




^m 



DEDICATION. 



TO ALL WORKERS IN THE CAUSE OF 

HUMANITY, 

HOWEVER HIGH OR HOWEVER LOW THEIR STATION, 

THE FOSTERERS OF 

TRUTH, 

the binders up of wounds, 

the lifters up of the hapless, 

the ones who fail not in time of need, 

this book is gratefully 

dedicated. 

Author. 



j 



[, 



PREFACE. 

SOON after Mrs. Sarah M. Victor, the lady by 
whose dictation this book has been written, 
arrived in this city from Columbus, I was called 
on by a member of the Women's Christian Tem- 
perance Union and asked if I would meet the for- 
mer, as she was in need of some assistance in my 
line of work. I consented to do so, and accord- 
ingly went to the lady's house, where I met Mrs. 
Victor. 

Upon talking with her and asking what her 
prospects for the future were, after her long im- 
prisonment, she told me that she had that day put 
the matter of the recovery of some property into 
the hands of an attorney, but was as 3 r et without 
money, and all work for her would have to be 
gratuitous. I remarked that such had been my 
understanding of the matter, and assured her that 
if she would tell me how I could assist her, she 
need feel under no obligation to me. She then 
spoke of needing some assistance in regard to 
some newspaper notices, and incidentally men- 

5 




6 PREFACE. 

tioned the fact that she had already commenced 
to write her life. I at once told her that she had 
mentioned something in which I saw a way to 
assist her, and that if, upon further acquaintance 
with each other, she should think best to accept 
my assistance, and I should conclude to undertake 
her work, I thought the public would freely give 
her aid, for which she would be rendering an 
equivalent in the experience of her many years of 
imprisonment. 

At first I had no knowledge and no well-defined 
idea of whether Mrs. Victor was guilty or inno- 
cent of the crime she had been convicted of, but I 
felt certain, from her appearance, that, if guilty, 
the " sackcloth and ashes" of nineteen years had 
done their work well, leaving no sin unatoned, 
and no guile in the heart they chastened. 

But after I undertook the work and had been 
given a portion of the matter to be written out, I 
began to see signs of innocence that seemed un- 
mistakable. No matter what piece of writing I 
took up, whether some triangular scrap of brown 
paper upon which the words seemed traced by a 
hand with but a thread of life to guide it, a full 
page of foolscap more legibly written, yet by the 



PREFACE. 7 

same hand, or a letter from some person of known 
responsibility, I was sure to find it but another 
chapter in a story that was not of guilt. 

I looked for contradictions, and found none; I 
fancied evasions, and had them explained in a 
moment, without time for thought; and as the 
days went on, a sense of the awfulness — I can use 
no other word — of the wrong that had been suf- 
fered grew into fullness in my mind. Before the 
book was half written my work became a pleas- 
ure, from the fact that I felt certain beyond the 
possibility of doubt that I was telling the true 
experience of a kind, truthful woman, who had 
suffered from a form and degree of inhumanity 
that ought never again to disgrace the annals of a 
city or state. 

I am aware that in giving words to this story 
of another it has been impossible to avoid leaving 
many traces of the personality of the writer, but I 
wish to assure the public that not an assertion or 
statement made*by Mrs. Victor has been changed 
in meaning, and nothing been given false coloring 
by me. The story is emphatically that of Mrs. 
Victor, while the wording alone is mine. All mat- 
ter accredited to others will speak for itself. 



8 PREFACE. 

With a hope that the public will respond to this 
^effort of Mrs. Victor to pass in comfort the few 
years that may remain to her now that her fear- 
ful ordeal is over, and may lose sight of the imper- 
fections of the writer's work in the interest of the 
story, this book is respectfully submitted. 

Harriet L. Adams. 
Cleveland, Ohio. 



J 



CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Chapter 1 25 

In Southern Ohio — Death of the Baby— Falling in the River 
— A Great Calamity — Lost his Reason — My Recollec- 
tions — A Long Journey — Slept in the Wagon — Lonely 
Watches — My Father Found — Selling Fruit — My 
Mother Sick — Put Out — Some Whippings — Neighbor 
Families— My Playmates— When in Prison— Father in 
Canada— Go Back Home. 

Chapter II 38 

Losing the Way — Among the Shakers — Where's Ma— Join- 
ing the Church— The Faith that Solaces— " Taken "— 
Queen of the May— My Dear Mother— The Baby May 
Need You— A Costly Charge— Some Thoughts— First 
Letter — Dead — Apprenticeship — To My Own Resources 
— Homesickness — Going to the Lake — A Brother in 
Christ— My Father's Return. 

Chapter III 51 

.First Ride on Lake Erie — M} r Mother's Grave — Liquor and 
Fate— Fifty Cents per Week— Theft of a Candle— Try- 
ing to Restore It— Going to Kirtland— Tell Me All 
About It— Much Disappointed — Dr. Ackley — Illness of 
My Sister — Goes to the Asylum — A Letter from Friends 
— Go West— On the Steamer — Very Seasick— Kind Pas- 
sengers—Finding a Bottle — Fort Mackinaw — In Port. 

9 



10 CONTENTS. 

PAGE: 

Chapter IV , 62 

On the Wharf at Milwaukee — Hunting for Farmers — Fifty 
Miles— For a Dollar— An Ox Team— Old Connecticut— 
Too Much— A Kind Lady— It Won't Hurt It— Old Urn 
—A Log Church— My Future Husband— Honey Parties 
— Engaged— Wolves — Letter Postage — The Wedding — 
Chivarari — Married — A Cap for a Hen — Diligent Biddy 
— Never a Brood Hen. 

Chapter V 78 

Heavy Work — Disappointed — Going to Housekeeping — Out- 
fit — A Shadow — Pleasant and Lively — A Treacherous 
Friend — Violence — No News from the East — Birth of 
First Boy — Go to Cleveland— Had Run Away — Tricks 
of Students — Husband's Arrival — A Quilting Party — 
Chicken-pox — Baby Very Sick — Thought in No Danger 
— My Baby Dead. 

Chapter VI 92 

A Second Son— Move to Cleveland— Not Sick, But Drunk— 
A- Lady Boarder— Joking of a Trick — Visit to Father 
Smith's — Return Home — Away All W T inter — Neither 
Money nor Food — A Minister's Call — Work — Some Hot 
Buns— Sewing— Go to Toledo— Not Sick, But Destitute 
— Would not Work — A Letter-box — "He" — A Young 
Girl— Fear for My Life. 

Chapter VII ; 10$ 

Visit from Father Smith — Takes His Son Home— Child 
Born — Another Wife — Go to Chicago — Finding the Cer- 
tificate — Renewed Promises — Reconciliation — Return to 
Cleveland — Hard Beginning — Looking for Help — Get- 
ting Out of Debt — Letter from My Husband — Go to 
Janesville — Excitement- -Comes Home — In Fear — With, 
a Hackman — Comments. 



•CONTENTS. 11 

PAGE 

Chapter VIII 119 

Acquaintance with C. C. Carlton — Insult — Paying a Bill — 
The Rock and the Whirlpool — Divorce — Break Up 
Housekeeping — Some Business Matters — Is He Not Too 
Old — Drifted On — Buying a Stove — Change of Name— 
A Door-plate — House Caught Fire — Suffocated — Mys- 
tery of the Fire — How it Caught— My Child's Confes- 
sion — Intimations. 

Chapter IX 132 

My Daughter— Seeing the Absurdity — A Sensational Re- 
port—Daughter's Marriage — My Boy's Last Illness- 
Measles — Predicting His Own Death — Prediction Ful- 
filled—Six o'Clock— A Negative Taken — An Epitaph— 
A Picture — Three Years Ago — An Act of Kindness — 
There, In a Prison — Sixteen Years— Fertility of Brains 
—A Bitterness— Before He Calls Me. 

Chapter X 144- 

A Determination — Going to See Mr. Smith — The Interview 
— Foreboded No Good — A Regret — Return to Cleveland 
— Meeting with Mr. Carlton— A Question — Utterly False 
— Sent a Man to Chicago — " Read This at Your Lei- 
sure" — Resolution Put Away — A Trip Through the 
East— West Point— St. Catherines— Montreal— Why I 
Lay Bare the Incidents. 

Chapter XI 156 

More at Ease — An Error Corrected — Working in the 
Church — Buying Lots— My Sister Libbie — Marries Dr. 
Gray— Working for the Soldiers— My Brother's Enlist- 
ment— "The Boys"— A Will Made— Getting the Life 
Insurance — The War Closes— Pawned His Watch- 
Going to Mr. Fenner's — A Fall in the Barn — Accident 
Insurance — Paying the Physician — Remarks. 



12 CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Chapter XII 170 

A Young Lady Dies — Loaning Some Money — A News- 
paper's Work — A Genuine Artist — Same Fiendish 
Woman — A Warning— A Matron's Work — What Can 
be Believed — Dr. Dellenbaugh's Statement — All Supposi- 
tion — No Grounds for Suspicion — Conclusive Evidence 
—The "Mills of the Gods "—Wedding Clothes— Will She 
Come Back — Not Safe Alone — Arsenic as a Tonic. 

■Chapter XIII 181 

About Mr. Newel — Startling Tales — Becoming Disgusted — 
Mrs. Sigsby — Mrs. Baker's Confession — Saw the Mur- 
der — A Certain Powder — Slipped on the Door-step — Ate 
Some Pie — Taken 111 — Died — Very Despondent — Re- 
quests While 111 — A Class of Students — Anonymous 
Letters — By Whom Written — In Whose Interests — A 
Request — Seeming Craftiness. 

Chapter XIV 194 

My Arrest — The Inquest — First Night in Jail — Friendly 
Mice — Morning — Personal Property — Mr. Castle — En- 
gaging an Attorney — Do As I Tell You — Torturing 
Doubts — Know Him? I Guess I Do — Mr. Palmer — 
Strength Fails— Dr. D. H. Beckwith— Thanks— An Ex- 
planation — Strange Counsel — Too Weak to Walk— The 
Indictment — Was Amazed — Faint and Confused. 

Chapter XV 207 

Testimony and Answers— Loren Myers— Some Confusion- 
George Ridgeway — The Coffin-plate — W. B. Stedman — 
Remains — Proctor Thayer — The Undertaker Not Called 
— Annie Miller — Pie — Arsenic for Rats — Called Her His 
Friend — About the Poison — Remarks of Counsel — J. W. 
Towner— A Verbatim Report — Felix Nicola — That 
Turnover— R. H. Strobridge— Jay Odell. 



CONTENTS. 13 

PAGE 

Chapter XVI 222 

A Place at Euclid— Three Hundred Dollars— On Thanks- 
giving—James W. Lee — E. W. Fenner — About Changing 
Doctors— Mary Davis— Eliza Welch — Ida Weily— Heart 
Disease — Lyman D. Hunt— A Ring — "Take It and Kill 
Yourself "—Hannah Newel— Fainting at the Grave — 
Jared P. Newel— See Files— See Register— J. G. Black 
Paid — All Expenses. 
4 

Chapter XVII 237 

Libbie Gray — Could not Read or Write — Morphine on Fri- 
day — Cry and Hollo — Would Have Two Doctors— On 
Sunday p. m. — On Tuesday — Reply — Whisky and 
Water — At the Funeral — Never Mind— Taking a Boy- 
Selling a Lot — Went to Newel's — ''Sailed My Last 
Trip" — Edwin Tolson— In Great Agony — "A Kind of 
Sleep" — Insinuations — Chloroform — A Sinking Spell. 

Chapter XVIII 252 

Dr. Sapp— A Mistake in His Papers— Threw Chloroform 
Away — Answer — Veratrum — In No Danger — Went to 
Doctor's Office — Annie Fenner— Gave Back a Ring— Dr. 
S. R. Beckwith— Examined William Parquet— A Certifi- 
cate—Of Date of Policy— C. C. Carlton— About Insur- 
ance—The House on Webster Street— Can Now Thank 
God— William A. King— J. W. Thomas— N. Merrill. 

Chapter XIX 265 

J. L. Cassels — Something of His Analysis — Quoted Testi- 
mony — Answer — See All the Features — Called by the 
Defense— Frcm the Record— Results of the Analysis — 
Summing It Up — Regarding a Motive — Lose Conscious- 
ness— A Verdict Given— A Fitting Climax— The Sentence 
of Death — Different Ideas— My Own Views— For Eter- 
nity to Solve — Copy of Asylum Record. 



14 CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Chapter XX 281 

Judge Ranney's Letter — Hon. Joseph Perkins — Queer Chem- 
istry—A Deputy Sheriff — A Bank-book— J. Gaskill— 
Not Guilty — From Mrs. Gaskill— Always Thought He 
Would— Mrs. L. E. French— Some Crime Committed— 
An Offset — ' ' Justice ' ' — Remarks — ' ' Diabolical Efforts ' ' 
— Eminent Counsel — A She Devil — Weighed Sixty Pounds 
— Passing Sentence — An Omission. 

Chapter XXI 294 

No 111 Feeling— Stubborn Wills— Hard Life of Prison Offi- 
cials — First Thoughts that Came— Looking in a Mirror 
— Hallucination — The Soul of Kindness — Breaking a 
Knife — Crept Under the Bed — General Walcutt — Colonel 
Burr — Colonel Innis — Paralysis — Near Death — Buck- 
wheat Cakes — Would Never Die There — Penitentiary 
Wedding — Annie McFarland — A Fire in the Prison — A 
Nurse's Devotion. 

Chapter XXII 309 

Preferred Hanging — Examining a Bed — Such is Prison Life 

— Habeas Corpus — Hon. George L. Converse — Judge 
Bingham — Decision Reversed — Captain Groves — Gover- 
nor Allen—" Loose Talk"— Woman at Fremont— Mrs. 
Hayes— "A Wicked Lie"— Mrs. Groves— The Rule of 
Silence — How it was Broken — A Matron Beaten — At the 
Hands of a Man— Warden McWhorter — Some Threats. 

Chapter XXIII 323 

Warden Dyer— The " Humming-bird "—By the Order of a 
Woman— Roughly Handled— Facts, No Fiction — Soli- 
tary Confinement — "Suckers" — A Note — Investigation 

— Released — One Just Woman — Governor Bishop — 
Some Ladies — Teller Letter — "In Confidence" — For 
Twenty Years — Blood-curdling — Lacked Courage — The 
Pardoning Governor— Only Regret — When it is too Late. 






CONTENTS. 15 

PAGE 

Chapter XXIV 336 

A Reign of Kindness — Humming-bird Banished— Few Pun- 
ishments—St. Paul's Words— A Card of Thanks— Re- 
stricting the Diet — Washing — Demanding Bread — 
Fever and Thirst— The "Cup of Cold Water"— The 
Matron Dies— "I Thought So"— Governor Foster- 
Bad Messenger — Starting a Liberty Fund — Remarks — 
He Cried — Thanks for Help— Elections — Warden Peetry 
— Holidays — First Arrests — A Governor's Promise. 

Chapter XXV 354 

"On New Year's Day" — Kindness Appreciated — Thoughts 
of a Prisoner — Gems — Seeing a Ghost— James A. Dean — 
Prison Letter Head — Liberties Granted — Rules of the 
Female Department — The Parole Law — Rules Adopted 
— Form of Parole— Form of Guaranty — Degrees of Mur- 
der — A Seeming Absurdity — Why Not Give All a Chance 
— A Woman's Reasoning — From a Prisoner's Letter — 
Remarks — "God Pity the Wretched Prisoners." 

Chapter XXVI 372 

An Eventful Change— A Good Warden and Wife— A Wise 
Matron— The Ladies Take Courage— Not Elated— Of 
Newel — Fears of Defeat — All Before the Governor — 
Night Before Pardon — Great Mental Strain — Free ! — 
Packing Up— A Christmas Tree— Last Farewells — Out- 
side the Walls — Some Unreality — At the House — Eating 
at a Table — A Reporter — Rest — About Governor 
Foraker — Messages— First Going Out. 

Chapter XXVII 385 

Mrs. DeSellem Speaks— Helpless as a Babe— Traces of Suf- 
fering—For Christ's Sake— Listening at the Cell— Wait- 
ing for the Verdict — Divine Assurance — Holding a Lec- 
ture—Simeon's Works Repeated — What Mrs. Taylor 



16 CONTENTS. 

PAGE 

Says— Doubts of Guilt— General Characteristics— News- 
paper Opposition — "We Knew Better" — Mrs. Pettit's 
Experience— R. B. Hayes— Mrs. Griffith's Work— Hoadly 
—With Tearful Eyes. 

Chapter XXVIII 402 

Rev. I. H. DeBruin's Statement— Observations— " Tell Them 
I am Innocent" — Charge not Sustained — Statement of 
G. S. Innis — "I am not Guilty" — Grave Doubts of 
Guilt — Miss Houk's Statement — Good and True — News- 
paper View — Mrs. Jones' Statement — Kind and Upright 
— Belief in Innocence — Home yet Open — Casting the 
First Stone — Cincinnati Enquirer — Ohio State Journal 
— Columbus Sunday Herald. 

Chapter XXIX 42& 

Letter from Warden Coffin — Worthy of Kindness — He who 
Tempers the Wind — Letter from the Matron — Not An 
Easy Task — Insurance Company Unpaid — The Life 
Lease — Letters Unanswered — Compelled to Go to 
Cleveland — Kindness of Friends — A Merciful Hand — 
Going to Cleveland — Sad Memories — This is the Place — 
Mr. Carlton Refuses — Engage an Attorney — Engage a 
Writer— Last Words to Friends. 



INTRODUCTION. 



ALTHOUGH my recollections date back to the 
time when I was four or five years of age, a 
considerable part of my life is almost an entire 
blank to me; and of that time of mental oblivion 
I shall attempt to give no full account. I was, 
also, never accurate in regard to dates, and except 
those that have been burned into my memory by 
the torture of false accusation and judgment, and 
that on which, through the persistent efforts of 
friends toward whom the gratitude I feel cannot 
be expressed by words, and the justice of that 
grand, clear-sighted, Christian man, Governor 
Joseph B. Foraker, I walked out from behind 
prison walls a free woman, I find it difficult to 
recall them. But facts — that is, those that 
occurred in my years of sanity — I can remember. 
The God who mercifully took from me the power 
of connected thought when the unspeakable 
horror of a probable death upon the gallows, in 
the full consciousness of my entire innocence of 
the crime of which I was convicted, was before me, 

17 



18 INTRODUCTION. 

has as kindly restored my reason, and has granted 
me power to look back over that dreadful time; 
and many of the events of even my early childhood 
I can recall minutely and distinctly. 

I have been told that among the various judg- 
ments of the many different persons to whom 
some knowledge of my case has come, it has often 
beensaid that my insanity was feigned. When such 
information first came to me I was in a prison cell, 
an invalid and partially helpless ; and as I gazed in 
weakness and utter, desolation on the massive 
walls that enclosed me, I remember of thinking, in 
a dazed and hopeless way, that they could not be 
more merciless than hearts that could prompt the 
utterance of such thoughts. Then came anguish 
of mind that I will not weary the reader by 
attempting to describe further than to say that I 
felt, as I was many times brought to feel, like 
doubting the goodness of the Father. But at last 
I found relief in tears and comfort in prayer, which, 
together, were my only solace when alone through 
all the years of my imprisonment, and I said then, 
as I say now, "God forgive them, for they know 
not what they do." Since I regained my freedom 
I have often had cause to realize the fact that the 



INTRODUCTION. 



19 



outside world is not yet free from selfishness and 
injustice, and that it is far from being the realm of 
happiness and good cheer that it is in the imagina- 
tion of those who have been long in imprisonment, 
by contrast with the dull misery of the daily 
round of prison life, with its gazing at blank walls 
and ponderous doors ; its sense of constant semi- 
twilight and lack of pure air; its thoughts of pun- 
ishments and the sufferings of others; and its 
occasional awakening of the mind to a conscious- 
ness of the insidious yet sure and deadly prison 
blight that is undermining the physical strength 
and creeping over the mental faculties. Yet, I have 
found so many kind and earnest friends — so much 
of unselfishness and justice among thoughtful 
people, that I feel that none but the unthinking 
could have given expression to conjectures so 
unfounded, to say nothing of the unkindness of 
adding to the stigma already borne by any so 
unfortunate as to have lost their freedom. 

Through the uniform kindness of all the different 
prison officials and others in whose care I was 
during my long incarceration, which kindness was, 
I trust, quickened by the faith that I would not 
abuse any privilege given, I was granted greater 



20 INTRODUCTION. 

liberty than is accorded to convicts in general, and, 
consequently, had many opportunities to observe 
the effect of prison life on those around me, as well 
as note the causes that had led to their imprison- 
ment ; and it may not be out of place for me to let 
the public know what conclusions were arrived at 
by one who "was there and saw." While the 
effect of prison life is different to a certain extent 
on each individual, there is one fact so apparent as 
to be worthy of the consideration of all w T ho may 
read this book — and that is, that long terms of 
imprisonment do not conduce to the reformation 
of any. No matter how guilty a person may be, 
each mind has been given its own limit of endur- 
ance, and, according to what I have seen, after 
that limit has been reached, no amount of chasten- 
ing has any other effect than to dull the senses and 
crush the soul of the one receiving it. To the inno- 
cent person convicted and thrown into a prison, I 
know by my own experience that every hour is 
felt to be a flagrant outrage; but among the 
guilty — and the majority of those into whose 
society I was thrown as a fellow convict, though 
in some cases not guilty of the particular crime 
for which they were imprisoned, were far from 



INTRODUCTION. 



21 



innocent — I found that under all bravado and 
denial there was a sense of the justice of a certain 
amount of punishment. But I found, also, that 
penitence came sooner or later to nearly all ; and 
it seems to me to be the duty of the public to first 
determine whether or not any official should have 
the power to blight a human soul, and if decided 
in the negative, which I feel sure would be the 
case in an enlightened country, then appoint com- 
missions to look into the matter of the length of 
term of prisoners, with a view to its proper ad- 
justment. 

In regard to the causes that had led to the im- 
prisonment of those around me, I can say that had 
it not have been for the evil of intemperance, I 
firmly believe that fully nine-tenths of all those, of 
both sexes, who were in the Columbus penitentiary 
when I recovered my reason ; all those who came 
and went during the long years of my conscious 
confinement, and all those there at the time of my 
release would never have seen the inside of any 
place of punishment. When intemperance is not 
known to have been the cause directly, as it is in 
the greater number of cases, it takes but a very 



22 INTRODUCTION. 

short time to find that it has been the cause in- 
directly. 

The above leads me to thoughts of the Women's 
Christian Temperance Union and its dear workers, 
of which and whom I wish to say afew words here. 
It would be impossible for me to recount the deeds 
of kindness of all the many members of the union 
who came to me at different times, but of many I 
can say not only, "I was sick and in prison and 
they visited me," but they ministered to my physi- 
cal needs; they upheld my faith in Divine justice 
when it faltered ; they again and again revived my 
dying hopes of freedom, and w T ith unwearying 
faith and patience they stood by me till I at last 
saw the sunlight unobscured by prison bars.' 
Although I owe a special debt of gratitude to 
those immediately interested in my welfare, I feel 
that to that union as a whole, with its far-reaching 
power in the reformation of the management of 
public institutions, I owe my life. When I awoke 
to the consciousness that I was a life convict in a 
prison, the same state of affairs did not exist in the 
Ohio penitentiary that existed at my release. With 
each succeeding administration I found the burdens 
of prison life lessened somewhat. For a long time 



INTRODUCTION. 



9Q 



I could not understand what force there could be 
in the outside world that could have the power to 
continue and constantly increase the improvement, 
regardless of what political party chanced to hold 
sway ; and not until after my release did I begin 
to fully realize the extent of the work in the cause 
of humanity that has been done by the Women's 
Christian Temperance Union. 

In giving this, the full story of my life, to the 
public, I feel that much will be found dull and 
uninteresting to the reader, and I fear that much 
will call forth condemnation. But as I feel that 
much has been too long left to conjecture, for the 
good of others as well as myself, I give the whole, 
with the hope that while the public sees and cen- 
sures my errors, it will remember that I have 
suffered as few women have done. That the 
reader may understand at the outset that there 
will be no evasions of the question of my guilt or 
innocence in the following pages, I here and now 
say that I am as guiltless of the crime of murder, 
either in thought or deed, as any child who may 
chance to glance over these words. 

In concluding these introductory remarks, I 
wish to say that every statement and assertion 



24 INTRODUCTION. 

contained in this book and not otherwise accred- 
ited has been dictated by me, either in writing or 
verbally, and has been written out in exact 
accordance with such dictation. Nothing has 
been added to nor taken from the substance or 
meaning of any statement or assertion by the 
lady writing it, and all has been submitted to me 
for change or correction from time to time as it 
was being written and as a whole finally. 

Sarah M. Victor. 



CHAPTER I 

In Southern Ohio — Death of the Baby— Falling in the 
River— A Great Calamity— Lost His Reason— My Rec- 
ollections—A Long Journey— Slept in the Wagon- 
Lonely Watches— My Father Found— Selling Fruit— 
My Mother Sick— Put Out— Some Whippings— Neigh- 
bor Families— My Playmates— When in Prison— Father 
in Canada — Go Back Home. 

I WAS born in southern Ohio, on the fifth of 
May, 1827, and was one of a family of nine 
children. My father was French, being born in 
Paris, France, and my mother was of German 
parentage, but born in this country. My father 
was, at the time of my birth, a man of consider- 
able wealth, for those days, and my first general 
recollections are of living with my parents and 
one brother and two sisters in Pickaway, Picka- 
way county, Ohio, where my father kept a store 
and owned real estate. Five children had been 
born to my parents at that time, but one had died 
before my birth. Our house was near the river 
(Miami), and I remember how I used to sit on its 

25 



26 THE LIFE STORY OF 

bank and watch the people as they fished from 
little boats or along the shore. My father and 
mother were kind parents to their children, and, 
although the country was new, and over fifty 
years ago lacked the comforts of later times, ours 
was a happy home. In the after years, as I looked 
out between the bars of a prison, but a few miles, 
comparatively, away from the scenes of my early 
life, and thought, of that home, it may well be 
imagined that it seemed to my mental sight as 
might some highly colored picture of Eden. 

The first incident in my life, that I can recall, 
was the death of a little sister, the baby, which 
occurred when I was four or Hyq years of age. I 
can see my dear mother now, as she bent over the 
little baby face, so white in death, and kissed it 
and cried over it; and I can remember my own 
grief and awe when some of the many people who 
came to the house told me that my little sister 
would be put in a box and buried in the ground, 
where I would never see her again. When they all 
went to the cemetery, which was but a short dis- 
tance from our house, I was left behind as being: 
too young to understand the ceremony of burial ;. 
but I followed after them, and when I saw all the 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



2T 



people standing around the grave and saw the 
men putting the coffin in, my grief overcame me 
and I began to cry. But a lady came to me and 
helped me gather my apron full of flowers, which 
comforted my childish mind, and I soon forgot my 
sorrow and thought it was nice to have so many 
people notice and be kind to me. When we re- 
turned from the cemetery, I remember how my 
mother took me up and cried over and petted me 
and called me her baby, and afterwards, how my 
father would take me when he came into the 
house and " trot " me on his foot as he used to the 
baby. 

The next thing that I remember distinctly is 
coming very near being drowned by falling in the 
river. There was a foot-board secured b}' one end 
to the bank of the river at its nearest point to our 
house, on which the people used to walk out to 
dip up water for various uses, and upon which the 
children used to play by "jumping up and down " 
to watch the waves made by the commotion. 
One day a neighbor's little girl and I were amus- 
ing ourselves in that way, when we both lost our 
balance and fell into the water. Fortunately, my 
father was not far away, and he succeeded in 



28 THE LIFE STORY OF 

rescuing us just before it was too late. We were 
both insensible, and everybody supposed we were 
dead. When I came to, I was lying on my father 
and mother's bed— " ma's bed," we children always 
called it — the house was full of people and my 
father and mother were crying and begging the 
doctor to save my life. Oh, how many times 
during my lonely prison existence did I think that 
it would have been better had the river ended the 
life that had been brought to such wretchedness ! 
But God knew best, and He has brought me 
through it all, enabling me to tell this little story 
in sanity and freedom and with a fair measure of 
liopefulness for the future. 

Not long after the foregoing accident, a great 
and dreadful, and, as I have had cause to realize to 
its fullest extent, a far-reaching calamity befell us 
all and more particularly my father. I was too 
young at the time of its occurrence to understand 
its full details and significance, and as I write from 
my own memory alone, my account of it must nec- 
essarily be simple ; but its effects very soon began 
to make themselves felt, and they have continued 
on through all the years till at last the culmin- 
ation has, I trust, been reached in the sufferings of 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



29 



my own life and is now over. One night, when we 
were living in our home at Pickaway, we children 
had all gone to bed— I was in my trundle-bed in 
my father and mother's room and my father and 
mother were sitting before the fire-place — when a 
knock was heard at the door. My father said, 
"Come in," as was the custom in those days, and 
a man came in, went up and shook hands with my 
parents and then sat down and began to talk. I 
could not understand what he said, but I soon 
noticed that both my father and mother looked 
and acted strangely. My father dropped his head 
into his hands and I do not think he spoke. The 
man soon went away, and my mother got up and 
went and put her arms around my father and 
finally knelt down beside him. After a little time 
he pushed her away and, jumping up, tore off some 
of his clothing and rushed out of the house. My 
mother started to follow him, when I screamed out 
in the fright that had come over me, and she 
turned back to quiet me. But she soon went out, 
and was gone a long time, but came back without 
my father. I well remember her agony ; how she 
would cry and say, "My poor husband, where is 
he and what will become of us?" 



30 THE LIFE STORY OF 

I afterwards learned that my father had signed 
papers as surety for another to an amount nearly 
equal to all of his property, and when the news came 
to him, brought by the visitor of the night men- 
tioned, that the man had failed and the payment 
of the debt would come on him (my father), he 
had immediately lost his reason, and fled, no one 
knew, at the time, where. My own recollections 
are that men came to the house and talked with 
my mother about the store and the houses, and 
about moving and my father being crazy. 

A long time afterwards, as it seems to me, the 
news came that my father was found, but was a 
long distance away ; and it was then thought best 
for my mother to gather up what had been left 
after the debt was paid and take the children and 
go to him, as, the people said, it would not be 
best for him to come back where he had lost his 
property, for fear of the effect on his mind. All 
that was left was, as I afterwards learned, a span 
of horses, a cow, a large moving wagon and 
household goods enough to fill it ; and with that 
outfit my mother started with us three children to 
go from Pickaway to the shore of Lake Erie. 
What sadness and anxiety of mind my mother 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 31 

must have felt on that journey, the reader can 
imagine ; but to us children it was, in the main, but 
a source of amusement. When we would become 
tired of riding, we would get out and walk, and 
play by the way ; then we would stop on the road 
and cook and milk the cow, and we enjoyed the 
novelty greatly and wondered why our mother 
cried so much and was so sad. I remember that 
we slept in the wagon, mainly, and those who can 
recall the newness of Ohio over fifty years ago 
may imagine the lonely watches our mother must 
have held over us. 

At this distant date I cannot tell how long we 
were on the way, but as we had to pass through 
some seven or eight counties, and often by circui- 
tous routes, it must have been a long time. How- 
ever, we at last found my father in Brooklyn, 
which is now a suburb of the city of Cleveland. 
But, alas, he was not the same kind father he had 
always been before. I do not think that he real- 
ized that we were his children, at first, for he took 
little notice of us, and acted so strangely that we 
were afraid of him. Yet, after a time, he began to 
talk to us all, and at evening would read the Bible 
and pray, and then our mother would look cheer- 



32 THE LIFE STORY OF 

ful and happy. But our happiness would be of 
short duration, for, of a sudden, he would be- 
come wildly insane again and have to be bound 
with ropes to keep him from running away. 
Added to all the anxiety and trouble, my mother 
had, as will readily be seen, to work very hard, 
and finally, I think, had to work for wages at 
whatever she could find to do. Indeed, the burden 
of self-support began to be felt by us all, and my 
brother and sister, who were older than I, used to 
add to the income by selling fruit in the city and 
doing other work that children could do. 

Borne down by the complication of troubles, my 
mother fell sick and her life was thought to be of 
short duration. At that time a friend of hers 
advised her to let one of the lady's acquaintances, 
who lived in the country and had no children of 
her own, take one of us children. It was a girl that 
the lady wanted, as she had already taken a boy. 
My mother consented, as she had little hope of 
recovery, and the lady, Mrs. Wemple, was sent for. 
When she came she chose me, and it was agreed 
that I should go. The lady took me home with 
her and I lived in the family till I was between 
thirteen and fourteen years old, with the exception 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 33 

of a few months when I was at home, as will be 
seen. 

I liked nry new " pa " and ' 'ma, " as I was taught to 
call Mr. and Mrs. Wemple, very much, and except 
a little loneliness at first, was well pleased with 
my new home. The little boy whom they had taken 
was, though, a source of much unhappiness to me 
at times. He was of a sulky, ungenerous disposi- 
tion and had little regard for the truth. Many a 
whipping I had to take on his account. He would 
steal sugar and other sweets, which were looked 
upon in those days as great luxuries, and do many 
other things, and then tell our foster-mother that 
I was the guilty one. Mrs. Wemple was quick to 
punish wrong-doing, and although I know she 
meant to do right, I am sure I would have been 
saved many severe punishments and sorrowful 
hours had she taken pains to be sure who was in 
the wrong. But both Mr. and Mrs. Wemple were 
conscientious, well-meaning people, and tried to 
make me contented and happy. 

One day, shortly after I went to my new home, 
"ma," as I always called Mrs. Wemple, even after 
I was a married woman, sent me to visit the little 
boy and girl of a neighbor, one Dr. Foster, to help 



34 THE LIFE STORY OF 

me overcome my homesickness. Mrs. Foster was 
an invalid, from consumption, and, as she sat in a 
large rocking-chair, I remember how she called me 
up to her and asked my name and then sent for 
the two children, whose names were Charles and 
Helen, and, taking our hands in hers, said she 
hoped we would love each other and always be 
friends. My recollections of the family are a 
pleasure to me still as I think of how kind they all 
were to me, and how they tried to make my life 
happy; and let me say here that when I was in 
prison and heard that Charles Foster was elected 
governor, my mind went immediately back to the 
little playmate of my childhood, and I thought 
that if they should chance to be the same, my 
case would be looked into, and when the injus- 
tice was seen, I would be released. But, alas, 
the new governor was a stranger to me, and, 
though I believe him to be a good man, I was 
doomed to many more years of confinement. 

There was another family living near that I 
took great pleasure in visiting and the friendship 
with which, begun at that early age, lasted up to 
the time of my imprisonment. It was the family 
of Nathaniel Merrill, and consisted at that time of 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 35 

Mr. and Mrs. Merrill and "Mr. Merrill's mother, 
"Grandma Merrill," as everybody called her. I 
Owe much of the happiness of those years to that 
family, and after I was married and the mother 
of a family, I always used, when possible, to go 
to Mr. and Mrs. Merrill for advice and counsel. 
The dear old grandma died while I yet lived with 
my foster-parents, but Mr. and Mrs. Merrill lived 
but a few miles from me at the time of my arrest, 
as following chapters will show. 

My mother recovered from her illness, and I 
sometimes went home to visit her and the family. 
My brother and sisters often came to see me and 
always would try to persuade me to go back 
home to live. Some time after I went to Mr. 
Wemple's to live, my father left home, and for a 
long time no news could be obtained of his where- 
abouts, but finally the information came that he 
•was in Canada. He had been in the British army 
in his younger life, after leaving France, and had 
left the army in Canada; so, in the state of mind 
he was in, he had w r andered back. My mother 
was thus left alone to care for the family, and 
after a time removed to Warrens ville, in the same 
county — Cuyahoga. 



36 THE LIFE STORY OF 

Soon after the family went to Warrensville, my 
eldest sister came to see me and insisted on my 
going back with her, as, she said, my mother 
wanted me to come. She described the home to 
which they had gone, in such an attractive way 
that at last she overcame my inclination to re- 
main where I was, and I went home with her, in 
direct opposition to the advice of my foster- 
parents. Mr. Wemple took us home, however, 
and I did not run away, as some of the sensa- 
tional newspaper accounts have represented. But 
I soon found that I had made a great mistake. 
When we arrived I found that my sister had much 
overdrawn the picture of the new home, and that 
my mother, while she would have been glad to 
have her children with her, knew it would have 
been much better for me to have remained at Mr. 
Wemple' s. 

When she found I had come home to stay, she 
said: "My dear child, you have come to a poor 
home, but to a loving mother." 

When I told her what my sister had said to me, 
she said, "Poor Eliza ! she meant well." 

I will say in explanation of my sister's conduct, 
that through lack of oversight, owing to the rnis- 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



37 



fortunes that had befallen our family, she had got 
beyond my mother's control, and wishing to gain 
her point and get me to go home with her, she 
had exaggerated and misrepresented my mother's 
wishes. 



38 THE LIFE STORY OF 



CHAPTER II. 

Losing the Way — Among the Shakers — Where's Ma— Join- 
ing the Church— The Faith that Solaces— " Taken " 
—Queen of the May— My Dear Mother— The Baby May 
Need You — A Costly Charge — Some Thoughts — First 
Letter — Dead— Apprenticeship — To My Own Resources 
—Homesickness — Going to the Lake — A Brother in 
Christ — My Father's Return. 

WHEN the first Sunday came after I arrived 
at my mother's house, as I had been in 
the habit of attending Sunday-school regularly, I 
wanted to go as usual, and so my sister and I got 
ready and started. But a singular mishap befell 
us, which, with the novelty of its result, made an 
impression on my mind that time has not in the 
least effaced. 

Through some oversight on the part of my sister 
in attempting to go by a shorter route than usual, 
we lost our way and wandered on through the 
woods till nearly sundown, when we came to a 
small village. I was so tired that I could go no 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 39 

farther, and so we went to one of the houses and 
knocked. A very neat old lady met us at the door, 
and we soon found that we were in the Shaker 
settlement, so well known to the people of the 
northern part of Ohio at that time and for some 
years afterwards. 

When we told our story, the lady said we woidd 
have to stay over night and told us we could stay 
with her. She was very kind to us, giving us a 
good supper and afterwards putting us in one of 
the nicest and whitest of beds to sleep. I was so 
delighted with the place that I wanted to stay, 
and although they took ray sister home to relieve 
my mother's mind, they allowed me to remain till 
I was sent for. I shall never forget how happy I 
was during the few weeks I passed in that Shaker 
home, nor how like a new world it all seemed to 
me. 

When my mother sent for me, the people took 
me home, and I remained there until a lady wanted 
me to come and do chores about the house for her. 
But I had not been long enough there to get over 
the homesickness of a new place when, one day, 
who should come in but my foster-father, Mr. 
Wemple ! I do not think I was ever so glad to see 



40 THE LIFE STORY OF 

anyone in my life before as I was to see him, 
■and my first question was, "Where's ma?" 

Mr. Wemple answered that "ma" was at home 
sick, and had told him not to come back without 
me. I was glad to go, for I really loved them both 
very much and should have been happy with them 
had it not have been for the little irritations that 
nearly always exist in cases where children are put 
out to live, and in which my own wilfulness, doubt- 
less, had its part. 

Mr. and Mrs. Wemple were members of the 
Presbyterian church and were very strict in ful- 
filling its teachings, which were much more rigid 
then than at the present time ; and after the ser- 
vice and Sabbath-school were over, Sunday was 
always a long day to me, as it was to most coun- 
try children at that time. But I loved the 
Sunday-school and took great interest in my les- 
sons; and before I left Mr. Wemple's I joined the 
church. It was the Disciple church, however, that 
I united with, as in going to that church with 
other young people I became impressed by the idea 
of baptism by immersion, which seemed to me to 
be the right way. I did not think when I joined 
that church that it would make any difference 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 41 

to Mrs. Wemple, but I found that she was very 
much displeased, and I do not think she was ever 
the same to me afterwards. But I have much to 
thank my foster-mother for. She taught me to 
work, sent me to school and gave me the first 
definite ideas of a faith that, grown into fuller 
form, has been a solace when and where nothing 
else could comfort. 

Of my school days I have some ver\ r pleasant, 
and some quite as unpleasant recollections. I loved 
to go to school, and learned readih- ; and I found 
great pleasure in all my studies except arithmetic. 
Besides reading, writing and spelling, I studied, at 
different times, geography, grammar, histon r , bot- 
any and a little of arithmetic, but found the last 
so distasteful and hard to understand that I made 
little progress in it. Yet, while I never became 
proficient in any branch of study, owing to the 
short time I went to school, I have felt the need of 
a knowledge of arithmetic more than any other. 

But the causes of the unpleasantness of my 
school life came from sources that will be readily 
recognized by those who understand what it was 
in those days to be " put out to live." My feelings 
were constantly being hurt by remarks of other 






42 THE LIFE STORY OF 

children, especially those of rich parents, about 
my being a poor " taken " child, who had to wear 
woolen dresses and do what "other folks" told 
me. Many times I would be so aggravated by 
such remarks that I would fly into a passion and 
do and say things that I would be very sorry for 
afterwards. At other times I would cry and 
dread the ordeal of going to school in the morning. 

Yet, with all my troubles, I knew some very 
happy days while going to school. I recall a 
couple of birthdays (the fifth of May) that were 
made a delight, and a source of much happy 
thought to me for days afterward, by the scholars 
gathering flowers and crowning me "Queen of the 
May." And then, on Saturdays, Mrs. Wemple 
would allow me to visit in the neighborhood and 
enjoy myself in various ways. 

I went, as usual, to see my own mother some- 
times, but could not be persuaded to remain, and 
did not think of leaving Mr. Wemple's again until 
some changes seemed, to my mind, to make it 
necessary, as- will be seen. My father had returned 
and remained at home, except during intervals of 
insanity, for some years, and other children, three 
in number, had been born, when, one day, my 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



43 



mother sent word for me to come and see her, and 
Mr. Wemple took me home. When I arrived, I 
found that my mother's father, who lived near 
Toledo, Ohio, had sent for her to come and make 
her home with him, as my father was again 
absent, and she wanted to bid me good-b} r e. 

My dear mother! that was the last time I ever 
saw her. Before I started to return she took me 
to one side and told me that as her health was so 
broken she might never return, and asked me if, in 
case she died and I was living, I would not do all 
I could for my father and brothers and sisters. 

"The baby," she said, "may need you; you 
will watch over her, won't you?" 

Ah, my mother little thought what that charge 
would cost me ! It was that same little innocent 
baby, grown to womanhood, who, misled and 
deceived, as I believe her to have been, was instru- 
mental in causing me to be sentenced to death and 
imprisoned a good part of a lifetime. But I made 
the promises; and now as I look back over the 
past and recall the weight of adverse circum- 
stances as against my own power and opportuni- 
ties, I fail to see wherein I have not done what I 
could. Could I have had the experience of after 



44 ' , THE LIFE STORY OF 

years to have guided me then, I can now see how 
different all my life would have been. But, alas, 
it is only through the lapse of years of the disci- 
pline of this life that knowledge comes to us, and 
we cannot use it until we have it in our possession. 

My mother told me she would let me hear from 
her as soon as she could after her arrival, and I 
cannot describe the expectation with which I 
watched for the promised letter. But days, and 
even months passed before I received it. I went to 
the post-office every day at the last, and finally, 
one day, I was given a letter. It was the first one 
I had ever received, and I opened it eagerly — to 
find only a lock of my mother's hair and the news 
that she was dead. 

I would never see my mother again ! It seemed 
too awful to be borne. 

I remember how all the people pitied me, and 
how useless and comfortless all their kindness 
seemed. At first I thought I never could feel rec- 
onciled to such a sorrow as had come to me ; and 
the first sense of comfort I felt was in gratefulness 
to Mrs. Wemple for dressing me in mourning for 
my mother's sake. I felt that it would be doing 
all that could be done for my mother, and I shall 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



45 



never forget how thankful I was to Mrs. Wemple 
for her kindness. 

After I received that letter I thought continu- 
ally of what my mother had said to me, and was 
always trying to think of some way in which 
I could help my brothers and sisters. Finally I 
read a book, which I got at Sabbath-school, about 
a young girl that had kept house for her father 
and taken care of her voungcr brothers and 
sisters, making their clothes, sending them to 
school, etc., and then my thoughts began to take 
form in the idea that I would learn to make 
dresses. I could sew and knit and do many other 
kinds of work, and I thought that if I knew how 
to make dresses, I would find my father and 
gather the younger children into a home. I knew 
that I was too young at that time to learn the 
dressmakers' trade, but I could not give up the 
idea. 

Some years passed, and, one day, I spoke to 
Mrs. Wemple about my wish to know how to 
make dresses, and asked her to let me go and learn 
the trade; but she looked upon the matter with 
so much disfavor that I did not dare to tell her 
why I wished to learn, for fear she would think I 



46 THE LIFE STORY OF 

wanted to leave her, and would be displeased 
about it. So I waited and waited, and when she 
saw that I did not give up the idea, she told me 
she would see a dressmaker, and find a place where 
I could work for my board, and let me try. 

Not long after that talk, Mrs. Wemple went to 
see a Miss Slade, who was a dressmaker in Cleve- 
land, and who agreed to give me a trial. Arrange- 
ments were then made with a Mrs. Stedman, who 
lived next door to Miss Slade, for me to work 
nights and mornings and half a day on wash-day, 
for my board ; and in that way I began my appren- 
ticeship. Mrs. Stedman and her family were very 
pleasant and good to me, and, although I had to 
work very hard, and early and late, I was much 
pleased with the arrangement, for my long-cher- 
ished wish was about to be realized. There was a 
millinery shop through which I had to pass to go 
to Miss Slade's rooms, and I watched the work of 
the milliners so closely that I soon could make a 
bonnet, myself. 

When Mrs. Wemple allowed me to leave her, I 
think she thought I would soon tire of the work 
and be glad to return; but when Miss Slade made 
favorable report of my progress and said I would 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



*7 



he a perfect dressmaker in less than the time for 
which she had taken me, my foster-parents seemed 
to lose all interest in me, and from that time left 
me entirely to my own resources. 

The apparent desertion on the part of my only 
protectors caused me a great deal of sorrow and 
anxiety. Many times I cried myself to sleep in 
homesickness and discouragement. Besides my 
loneliness, I soon found that what little clothing I 
had was wearing out, and as I was earning no 
money, I did not know what to do. I could not 
go to church when Sunday came, because my 
clothes, while doing very well for the shop and 
housework, were not suitable for any public meet- 
ing; and so the Sabbath was always a long and 
unhappy day to me. 

Sometimes when I had become very tired of sit- 
ting alone when others had gone to church, on 
Sunday, I would stroll down to the lake and sit in 
the grove and watch the boats as they passed ; and 
in that way an incident occurred that I never shall 
forget and that will show the propriety of church- 
going, particularly for young girls. 

The Sunday before the last of my going to the 
lake, as I was sitting looking out on the water and 



48 THE LIFE STORY OF 

thinking of my forlorn condition, a nice appearing 
gentleman came up and spoke about the beautiful 
view and asked me if I enjo} 7 ed it. I answered that 
I did, very much, and that I came down nearly 
every Sunday. He made some further remarks and 
seemed so pleasant that I thought him one of the 
nicest gentlemen I had ever seen. 

I soon went home, but the next Sunday I again 
went to the lake, and soon after I arrived the 
same gentleman came, and sitting down beside 
me began to ask about my parents, where I lived 
and what church I attended, and before I was 
aware of it, I had told him nearly everything 
about myself and family. He then said that he 
believed I was a very good girl and that he would 
like to have me in his own family. He said he 
would pay me high wages and get a dressmaker 
to come to the house and teach me, and added 
that he knew his family would like me and I 
them. 

I was much elated at the prospect, and asked 
him to tell his wife where I worked, so that she 
might come and see me. 

He said that his wife was lame, but that he 
would come. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 49 

Before he could say anything more, a gentleman 
who had come up behind where we sat said, " You 
villain, how dare you talk like that to my 
sister?" 

The man got up and hurried away and I turned 
to the one who had spoken, and said, "What do 
you mean? You know I am not your sister." 

"Yes, sister, I am your brother in Christ," he 
answered, and then said : 

"I heard you tell that villain that you belonged 
to the Disciple church, and if not, I am your 
brother to protect you, and I shall not leave you 
until I see you home." 

I found that he was a young minister in the 
Disciple church. He told me that the man I 
had thought so much of a gentleman had neither 
a wife nor a family, and was a very bad man. 
He then took me to Mrs. Stedman's, and I did 
not go to the lake again for a long time. 

Not long after the occurrence just mentioned, 
my father came to Cleveland, and finding where 
I was, came to see me. He seemed rational, and 
I told him that if he would get a house, I could 
keep house for him. He was much pleased, and 
in a short time he got a nice house, at the same 



50 THE LIFE STORY OF 

time setting up in a small grocery business. Then 
I began to think that the time for the fulfillment 
of my desire to do something for the family had 
at last come. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 51 



CHAPTER III. 

First Ride on Lake Erie— My Mother's Grave— Liquor 
and Fate— Fifty Cents per Week— Theft of a Candle 
—Trying to Restore It— Going to Kirtland— Tell Me 
All About It — Much Disappointed— Dr. Ackley— Ill- 
ness of My Sister— Goes to the Asylum— A Letter 
from Friends— Go West— On the Steamer— Very Sea- 
sick—Kind Passengers — Finding a Bottle— Fort Mack- 
inaw—In Port. 

I HAD not been keeping house long before my 
sister Eliza, who was married and living 
near Toledo, having heard that our father had 
returned to Cleveland, came to see us. She made 
but a short visit, and was very anxious to have 
me go home with her and see the other children, 
whom she had cared for mostly since our mother's 
death. I would not consent to go, but before I 
was aware of it I was taking my first ride on 
Lake Erie. 

When my sister was ready to start for home, 
she wanted me to go and see her off. All travel 
was by water— that is, to lake ports— and as I 



52 THE LIFE STORY OF 

thought it would be something to see the steamer, 
I went with her to the landing. When we arrived 
it was not yet time for the boat to leave, and 
after some hesitation I went on board and we 
sat down in the cabin. I was very uneasy, but 
my sister said there was plenty of time, and kept 
on talking of the children till, all of a sudden, I 
discovered that the boat was moving. My sister 
began to laugh and I jumped up and ran out, only 
to find that the boat was too far from the landing 
for me to be put on shore. Then there was a 
scene. I was nearly distracted. I did not know 
what my father would think of my absence, and 
I wanted the captain to put me on some return- 
ing boat. But he told me I could write to my 
father by the return of the boat from Toledo, and 
after a good deal of persuasion I became recon- 
ciled to go home with my sister. 

While at my sister's I went to visit our mother's 
grave. It was in the woods, with a few others 
about it, and the desolation of that scene, with 
logs and rails scattered around to keep the cat- 
tle from wandering over the graves, is as clear 
to my mental vision to-day as it was to my phys- 
ical sight over forty-five years ago. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



53 



I soon returned to Cleveland, and soon after, 
my father got my eldest brother, Joseph, and a 
younger sister, Lavina, home with us. I then 
had enough to do, but I was determined not to 
become discouraged, and things went on in that 
way for a considerable length of time. 

I was happy in the consciousness that I was 
doing what my mother would have approved of, 
and I used to wonder if she knew I was trying to 
do my duty. But after a while I noticed that my 
father, though not appearing to be really insane, 
had spells of great irritability, and at such times 
would neglect his business. At last he became so 
bad that I went to Colonel Abby, well known to 
the older residents of Cleveland, and asked his 
advice. 

''Sarah," he said, "I think your father is drink- 
ing, and that is bad for him in his condition." 

I felt that my fears were realized then, for I had 
thought such was the case. Soon after I talked 
with Colonel Abby, fate, it would seem, brought 
the very man through whom my father had lost 
his property, to Cleveland, on some business, and 
seeing him pass the house, my father ran after him 
and did not return for many months. After some 



54 THE LIFE STORY OF 

time had elapsed my brother was obliged to sell 
out everything, and I went to Colonel Abby's to 
stay till I could get a situation, taking my little 
sister with me. My little brother, William, the one 
for whose supposed murder I was imprisoned, had 
been sent to us some time before, and I got the 
family of a Mr. Marcellus to keep him till I could 
find a place for him. 

I soon got work, but wages were very low, and 
I received but fifty cents per w T eek, half of which 
went to Colonel Abby's family for my sister's 
board, until Mrs. Abby, seeing the hardness of my 
lot, told me I need no longer pay it. As an 
instance of the difficulties under which girls had to 
work in those days, I will relate a little incident 
which, though not complimentary to myself, will 
illustrate the process from cause to effect. It is 
simply an account of my first and only theft, which 
occurred while I was working at my first place 
after leaving Colonel Abby's : 

Having to work for such low wages, my ward- 
robe was not very extensive, but such clothing as 
I was able to buy, had to be made; and all the 
time that I could devote to sewing for myself was 
at night, after my work for the family was done. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 55 

I was allowed no light except the ends of candles, 
about an inch long, which were taken from the 
candle-sticks when they were cleaned in the morn- 
ing, and kept to "go to bed by." As such lights 
would last but a few minutes, I usually bought 
my own candles; but one night I had neither a 
candle nor money with which to buy one, and was 
very anxious to finish a piece of work that I had 
begun. Fearing refusal, I had not the courage to 
ask for a light, and so went to the box where the 
candles were kept, thinking to take one and re- 
place it as soon as I could. But I had been taught 
rigid honesty, and I have often thought since that 
if every thief went through the same ordeal I did, 
in the first theft, there would be few second trans- 
gressions. I took up a candle and laid it down 
again, several times ; then I thought half of one 
would do and would lessen the sin; so I cut one 
in two, replacing the half, when I was appalled by 
the thought that the half would betray me, and 
at last caught up both pieces and, putting them in 
my pocket, crept up to my room. 

I did not enjoy the light of that candle in the 
least, and made up my mind to replace it as soon 
as possible. In a short time I bought one, and felt 



56 THE LIFE STORY OF 

<quite elated at the thought of restitution; but, 
alas, it was not like the others and I was no more 
at ease than before. I then concluded to wait till 
I found one that would match those in the box; 
but as I left the place soon after, the candle never 
was returned, and the whole left such an unpleas- 
ant impression on my mind that it has never been 
forgotten. 

When I left the place spoken of, I went to work 
in the family of Dr. Ackley, who, like Colonel 
Abby, will be remembered by many Cleveland 
people. Mrs. Ackley was ill and partially insane, 
but was very kind to me, often allowing me to 
do for her many things that she would not allow 
done by her own family. 

In trying to find a place for my brother William 
I heard of a family in Kirtland, some twenty 
miles from Cleveland, who wanted to adopt a 
little boy, and a girl who had once lived in the 
family offered to go there with me. There was 
no railroad then, and as I had little money, we 
walked a part, and got a ride the rest of the way 
to my old home, Mr. Wemple's, where we stayed 
over night and took the stage the next day for 
Kirtland. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. bi 

When we arrived at the house of the people who 
wanted the child, we were met by a lady whose 
appearance pleased me very much, and I soon 
told my story. But I was not prepared for what 
followed. 

"And so you have come all this way to get a 
home for a little brother! Are }-ou sure he is 
your brother?" said the lady. 

"Yes, ma'am," I answered, not seeing why such 
a question should be asked. 

She then drew her chair up to mine and taking 
my hand in hers said, "You are very young, and 
you look like a good girl ; now, tell me all about 
it, and I will be your friend." 

I had not so much as the faintest idea of what 
she meant, and so remained silent. 

"Now, tell me all about it," she continued; 
1 'who his father is and if you were engaged to 
him. Now, who is his father?" 

"My father," I answered, very much confused, 
and beginning to get an idea of her meaning. 

"No, his father; you need not be afraid to tell 
me all about it," she persisted. 

I then told her that he was my brother, and that 
our mother was dead and our father gone away. 









58 THE LIFE STORY OF 

"Oh, I see you are like all city girls," she said, 
and added that it would be bad enough to take 
"such" a child, any way. 

At last she said, "You can't expect me to take 
your child unless you tell me all about him and 
who his father is." 

She said much more in the same strain during 
our conversation, but as I could not claim the 
maternity of my own brother, she would not 
give him a home, and I was obliged to return to> 
Cleveland very sad and disappointed. The little 
episode did not increase my faith in humanity 
nor in the efficacy of truth. 

When I returned to Cleveland I told Dr. Ackley's 
folks the cause of my failure, and soon after that 
the doctor told me that I could bring my brother 
to them and they would care for him. That was 
a great relief to me. I had felt so much anxiet} T 
about the matter that it had interfered with my 
work ; but when I at last had my little brother 
with me, I was very happy. 

My sister was still at Colonel Abby's, and 
one day Dr. Ackley came home and told me to get 
ready and he would take me over there to see 
her. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



59 



"I have bad news for you," he said. 

At first I thought some change was to be made 
that would throw me out of my place, as some 
place to call home was uppermost in my mind; 
but the doctor assured me that both myself and 
my brother could stay as long as we liked, and 
then told me that my sister was very sick and he 
did not think she would live. She was uncon- 
scious when we arrived, and I cannot describe 
what my feelings were when I thought she would 
never know me again. She had always been my 
pet sister, my mother having allowed me to name 
her when she was a baby ; and when I saw her so 
near death, I thought I could not lose her, and I 
prayed God to spare her. My prayer was an- 
swered, and I stayed with her till she was out of 
danger, going every night after my work was 
done, for some time after, and passing the night 
with her. 

1 remained at Dr. Ackley's until Mrs. Ackley 
became so much worse that it was necessary to 
remove her to the asylum. Then my services w r ere 
no longer needed and I was obliged to look for 
another situation. 

About that time I received a letter from a family 






60 THE LIFE STORY OF 

with whom I was acquainted, who had gone to 
Wisconsin some time before. They wanted me to 
come to them, telling me that wages were much 
higher there than in Cleveland, and offering me a 
home for as long as I wanted to stay. I showed 
the letter to Dr. Ackley, and he told me that if I 
thought best to go, he would get me a passage on 
the steamer going to Milwaukee, and as I had been 
so faithful to Mrs. Ackley and my brother and 
sister, he would give me ten dollars besides. He 
said, also, that he would keep William and educate 
liim. 

I then went to Mrs. Abby and asked her advice. 
She told me that she thought that, as I could not 
depend upon any assistance from my father, it 
might be the best thing I could do, and said that 
they would keep my sister till they could do 
better by her. So it was arranged that I should 
go west, and Dr. Ackley took me to the steamer 
and put me in charge of the captain. 

The first day and night I was very seasick, but 
the captain told the lady passengers that I was 
alone, going west to friends, and they were all 
irery kind to me. 

We stopped at several places on the way, but 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



61 



the one that interested me the most was Fort 
Mackinaw. 

A gentleman on the boat had found a bottle 
floating on the lake, containing a letter written 
by someone on a vessel that had been lost, and 
addressed to friends at Fort Mackinaw ; so when 
we arrived there the ladies took me on shore 
with them and we saw the man deliver the letter. 
Then we strolled around, going up to the fort and 
looking it over; then to see the squaws making 
bead-work, and at last to watch the Indians, some 
of whom were looking over their nets, some fish- 
ing, etc., when we went back to the steamer, very 
tired, but much interested by what we had seen. 

We made short stops at some few other places, 
but at last the captain came to me and told me to 
get ready, as we would soon be at Milwaukee. 

Then came the parting with the ladies who had 
been so kind to me, some of whom had daughters 
of their own, and cried as they kissed me in part- 
ing. At last all was over, and I found myself on 
shore. 



62 THE LIFE STORY OF 



CHAPTER IV. 

On the Wharf at Milwaukee — Hunting for Farmers — 
Fifty Miles— For a Dollar— An Ox Team— Old Con- 
necticut—Too Much— A Kind Lady— It Won't Hurt It 
—Old Um— A Log Church— My Future Husband— Honey 
Parties — Engaged— Wolyes— Letter Postage — The 
Wedding— Chiyarari— Married— A Cap for a Hen— Dili- 
gent Biddy— Neyer a Brood Hen. 

IF the reader can imagine how it would seem to be 
a young girl, alone in a strange city, with little 
knowledge of the world and less money, it may be 
possible to understand how I felt as I stood on the 
wharf at Milwaukee, without one familiar face in 
the throngs of people, and with no idea of what 
wras to be done first. My friends, in writing to me, 
had said that I should ask some of the farmers 
who would be in the city, and they would take me 
to my destination; but where were the farmers? 
I knew that farmers were usually to be found 
near the market places in Cleveland, and my first 
inquiry was for the general market. No one near 
the boat-landing knew where to direct me, and so 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



63 



I left my baggage and started to find someone 
who did. At last I found a place where a number 
of farm wagons were standing from which some 
men were unloading grain, and I asked if any of 
them knew Mr. Gilmore, who lived near White- 
water. 

"Whitewater!" said one man, " why I know the 
place, but it's a long ways from here." 

Some then said it was fifty, and some a hundred 
miles. My heart sank on hearing that, for I thought 
I never could get a ride in a farm wagon so far as 
fifty miles. But soon an old gentleman came up 
to where we were standing, and hearing the con- 
versation, said : "I know Gilmore; I live out there, 
and I'll take you there for a dollar. " 

I could have cried from thankfulness, at the 
news, and in a short time the old gentleman had 
got my baggage and I was again on my journey ; 
this time to go fifty miles, the real distance to 
Whitewater, behind an ox team. 

In these days of rapid travel, the tediousness of 
such atrip can be imagined ; but the weariness was 
not unmixed with novelty. As we went on over 
the rough roads, the old farmer, when not asking 
questions about the place and the people where I 



64? THE LIFE STORY OF 

had come from and my trip " 'round the big lakes,' ' 
entertained me by telling tales of the hardships 
and adventures of the settlers' lives, and did his 
best to cheer and encourage me. 

"If you don't git humsick at the start," said he, 
"you'll come out all right," which I afterwards 
found to be the case. 

Near dark the first day, we came to a log house, 
where the farmer said we would stop over night. 
He went to take care of the oxen and an old lady 
came to the door and told me to come in. As the 
farmer had said nothing to her as we came up, I 
asked her if I could stay over night. 

"La, yes, child," said she; "you can't go no 
further to-night. It's miles to the next place." 

She then asked me what I would have for supper, 
and I told her some bread and milk would be all I 
would want. 

"But mebby I'd better cook some meat," said 
she, "for likely your father'll want some." 

I then told her that the man was not my father, 
and where I had come from and was going. 

"Land sakes ! you don't say so," she exclaimed. 

She then said that I "favored" the old gentle- 
man, and she thought I "was surely his gal;" but 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



65 



when I told her further of myself she became much 
interested, and said she was always "so glad to 
see anyone from the east." 

When she took me into the little bed-room where 
I was to sleep, she asked me if I said my prayers 
before retiring. I told her that I did, and she then 
asked if I would care if she sta\ r ed and heard me. 

" 1 used to say my prayers when I was a gal and 
lived in old Connecticut," she said, and continued: 
"We came, all the way from old Connecticut. 
When I was married my old man promised to stay 
there, but he got the western fever and had to 
come here." 

I knelt and said the bed-time prayer taught me 
by Mrs. Wemple, ending by asking God to bless 
the dear old lady beside me. When I arose, I 
found her in tears, and I put my arms around her 
and told her not to cr\\ 

"It takes me back to my folks," she said. 
"They're all dead and gone now." 

I arose early the next morning and found a good 
breakfast awaiting me. As we were about to 
start, the farmer asked me if I had paid my bill. 
I told him I had not, and, indeed, that was 
the first intimation I had had that the place was 



66 THE LIFE STORY OF 

a hotel. As I turned to go back, I heard the old 
lady say to her husband, "Twenty-five cents is 
enough; she hain't got much money," and so 
twenty-five cents was the charge. 

We were soon on our way again behind the 
slow ox team. The ride was without interest 
until about noon, when a very novel incident 
broke the monotony : 

As we stopped at a little group of log-houses, 
called a village, to water the oxen, another team 
drove up, and in the wagon were a woman and 
child. The woman was crying and seemed in 
great trouble. When questioned, the driver said 
his passengers had come from the east to visit the 
woman's father, who lived somewhere near that 
place, but that the woman had forgotten her 
father's name. The idea of forgetting the name of 
one's own father was too much for those who had 
gathered around, and many of them began to 
laugh. But soon a man came up and said : 

"Why, it must be old Uncle . He told me, 

yesterday, that he was expecting his girl and her 
baby." 

When the woman heard the name, which I can- 
not recall, she said, "Oh, that's my father!" and 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



67 



then we learned that she had become so fatigued 
by her journey that she could not think. 

As we drove on, the old farmer drew his face 
into a funny smile and muttered, "I b'Heve that 
caps the climax of anything I ever did hear." 

That night, we stopped at another log tavern. 
When we arrived, I did not see any woman about, 
and when the man who met us asked me if I would 
have supper, I said no, fearing my money would 
not hold out. I had been obliged to spend some of 
the money given me by Dr. Ackley, for clothing, 
and so had little left. But after I had retired, a 
lady came into the room and asked if I was sick. 
I told her I was not, and she then went out and 
brought me some bread and milk, and some cake. 
She then sat down on the bed with me and talked 
some time, telling me of her own life; that she had 
lost a little girl who would have been about my 
age, and finally that if I did not remain with the 
friends to whom I was going, to come back and 
live with her. 

In the morning she made up a nice lunch for me 
to eat on the road, and would not take any pay for 
what I had had. I never saw the lady again, but 



68 THE LIFE STORY OF 

I cherished the memory of that night in a log 
tavern for many years after. 

The ride that day was over the same rough 
roads through the woods, with some wild animal 
occasionally creeping out of the bushes and dart- 
ing across the road before us ; but as it was to be 
my last before reaching Mr. Gilmore's, I began to 
feel encouraged 

About noon, as I was eating my lunch, a big,, 
rough boy got in to ride with us, and clouded my 
thoughts for a time by sitting down on my band- 
box. 

"Oh, it won't hurt it; it can be fixed," said he, 
.with a truly masculine idea of millinery goods. 

Soon after noon we reached Whitewater, and the 
farmer told me I would soon be with my friends, as 
we had but five miles farther to go. But oxen are 
not to be hurried, and the sun was just setting 
when we drove up to a little log house which I 
could not believe was Mr. Gilmore's until the chil- 
dren came running out to meet me. 

At last I was at the end of my journey, and 
although everything was new to me, and different 
than I had expected, we were,all very happy that 
night. We talked and laughed over our experiences 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



69 



since we parted in Cleveland, and Mrs. Gilmore 
jokingly spoke of the young men about there, but 
I little thought I would marry and settle down in 
that new place. 

During our conversation I related how I had had 
my fortune told some years before. A Mr. Doan, 
who lived at Collamer, near Cleveland, had an old 
colored man who was a deaf-mute, and people 
used to say that he had the gift of second sight. 
One day I was in Mr. Wemple's shop (my foster- 
father was a blacksmith), and old "Um," as he 
was called, came in. As soon as he saw me he began 
to motion with his hands. I could not understand 
him, but Mr. Wemple said : 

" Um wants to tell your fortune." The old man 
then threw out his hands, then reached high up 
with one, and went through a number of motions, 
which Mr. Wemple said meant that I would 
" cross big water and marry a tall man." 

When Sunday came, Mrs. Gilmore said we would 
walk to church, as it was but a short distance. 
We got ready and started, and after walking some 
distance and seeing no church, I asked how soon 
we would reach it. 

"When we get to that little knoll," pointing to 



70 THE EIFE STORY OF 

a slight elevation before us, "you can see it," Mrs. 
Gilmore answered. 

I then asked if it was a nice building. 

"We think it very nice," she said. 

Just then two men came up from behind us and 
passed on, when I asked who they were. 

"One is Mr. H and the other is young 

Smith," said Mrs. Gilmore, and, stopping and put- 
ting her hand on my shoulder, added tragically, 
"There's your future husband!" 

I laughed, and asked, "Which one?" 

"Young Smith, the tall one, of course," she said; 
and whether old "Urn's " prophecy was the result 
of "second sight," or chance, the tall man was my 
future husband ; the man with whom I spent some 
years of almost perfect happiness, and afterwards, 
some full of torture of mind, and misery and 
neglect. 

When we reached the top of the knoll, I looked 
down and saw some people going into a log house. 

"Why, is that the church ?" I asked, but I knew 
it was, when I saw Mrs. Gilmore laughing at me. 

I found that a good meeting could be held, even 
in a log church. The minister preached a good 
sermon, and as the choir was in those days the 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



71 



whole congregation, we all joined in the singing. 
During the services I could not look across to 
where the gentleman Mrs. Gilmore had called 
"young Smith" sat, without finding him looking 
at me, and on the way home, Mrs. Gilmore joked 
me and said> "You'll see him coming over in a 
few days." 

Sure enough, in a few days he came, bringing 
his sister with him. When they took their 
leave, they invited me to visit them, and in that 
way our acquaintance began. Mr. Smith was 
very attentive from the first, and before long 
there was hardly a meeting or gathering such as 
the people had about there, that I did not attend 
with him and his sister. 

Along at first nearly every party was what 
they called a "honey party." Some of the 
farmers would find a bee tree, and then the family 
would invite all the neighbors to come and eat 
biscuits and honey. I shall never forget the first 
one I attended. When supper was announced, 
the young folks all started in a wild race to see 
who could get to the table first, and during the 
meal the farmer's wife would say : 



72 THE LIFE STORY OF 

"Eat hearty, girls; there's plenty more bis- 
cuits." 

It was all so extremely ludicrous to me that I 
could not keep from laughing, and came very near 
getting myself into trouble. But I soon got used 
to the customs, and enjoyed myself with the 
rest. 

I had not, however, any intentions as yet, of 
remaining permanently in that country, and when 
I found that I had made a mistake, so far as 
wages were concerned, in going, I made up my 
mind to go back to Milwaukee, to a family of 
which one of the ladies on the steamer had told 
me, and try to get work till I should be able to 
go back to Ohio. I told Mrs. Gilmore of my in- 
tentions, and it was agreed that I should remain 
two weeks longer, and then they would take me 
to Milwaukee. 

When Mr. Smith heard of my intention, he was 
more attentive thanever, and before the two weeks 
were up, he had persuaded me to protract my stay. 
I was too young to think of marrying, and he 
was not yet twenty ; but before many weeks had 
passed we were engaged. 

After that, he came to see me once a week, at 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



73 



evening, and would stay till about ten o'clock. 
The country was full of wild animals, and one 
night, on his way home, he was attacked by 
wolves. I did not recover from the fright it caused 
me, for many weeks, and I began to understand 
what it would be to lose my future husband. He 
wanted me to agree to be married that winter, 
and his family said the same. I knew nothing of 
the responsibilities of a wife, and thought of mar- 
riage only as a condition in which I would have 
a home and the one I loved always with me. 

Mr. Smith's father had promised Charles — that 
was my affianced's name — that he would deed 
him forty acres of land when he became of age, 
and I thought that when we should get a home 
of our own, I could have the brother and sister 
I had left in Cleveland come west also. 

The postage on letters in those days was 
twenty-five cents, and but few people wrote to 
their friends more than once a year, and in many 
cases not as often as that; trusting- to hearing 
from them through someone coming from the 
east. When the news would come that a family or 
person had arrived in that country from almost 
anywhere east of the sections that were almost 



74 THE LIFE STORY OF 

solid woods, many times people would drive 
twenty miles to see them and inquire after those 
left behind. But as no one came who knew my 
people, I had not heard of the children since I 
left Cleveland; yet they were constantly in my 
mind, and I made many pictures of what I would 
do for them, little knowing what the future 
would bring. 

But I knew that I loved Mr. Smith, and when 
everyone seemed so anxious to have the marriag 
at an early day, I consented, and we were married 
on the fourteenth day of January, 1843. A Bap- 
tist minister, Rev. Mr. Reed, performed the cere- 
mony, and for that new country we had a fine 
wedding. Nearly all the people for some distance 
around were there, and as soon as the ceremony 
was over refreshments were passed around — the 
house not being large enough to set tables for so 
many guests. 

We had received congratulations on every hand, 
but there was more to follow, as I soon realized. 
Just as the guests were enjoying their cake, a gun- 
was fired outside. My first thought was of 
wolves; but before I could ask what was the 
matter, the shot was followed by the most horri- 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



75 



ble sound I had ever heard or have ever heard 
since. I cannot describe it, but it was simply- 
appalling. Seeing that I was frightened, the min- 
ister came over to me. 

"That is a very fine band," said he, and added 
that it was a "harmless custom." 

I thought he was trying to quiet my fears, and 
asked him if the Indians were coming. Then 
everybody laughed, and I soon learned that we 
were being treated to a chivarari. It had been 
gotten up by an old bachelor in the neighborhood, 
and was not unexpected by the guests. 

The "serenaders" were soon quieted by being 
treated to refreshments, the guests went home to 
"sleep on their wedding cake," and I was a mar- 
ried woman, alone with my husband. 

Arrangements had been made that we should 
live with my husband's parents till my husband 
became twenty-one, and we went there soon after 
our marriage. The family consisted of father and 
mother Smith, two daughters, Fanny and Lucella, 
and my husband, who was the only son. They 
were all kind, pleasant people, and we were a 
much happier family than is often the case under 
such circumstances. There were, though, many 



76 THE LIFE STORY OF 

things to irritate and to be borne in silence till we 
could go by ourselves. The country being so new, 
life was hard for us all. 

There was little money in circulation in the rural 
parts of Wisconsin forty-four years ago, and the 
farmers all looked forward to harvest time, after 
which those in the vicinity where we lived would 
take their grain to Milwaukee, being gone several 
days and returning with more money than they 
would have at any other time in the year. 

The wild animals killed off our poultry so fast 
idiat it was almost impossible to keep any; and 
the efforts and failures we made in trying to keep 
up the supply, though very discouraging then, 
would be amusing now. 

I was very anxious to do something to help in 
increasing the family resources, and I thought 
that if I could get a hen, I could set her and raise 
a brood of chickens, which should be my special 
charge till they were grown. With a natural 
taste for such work, I had learned to knit lace 
when I was very young, and when I heard of a 
woman who wanted a cap, I went to her and told 
her that if she would give me a hen, I would knit 
her a cap. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



77 



"A hen? Why, yes, I'll give you a hen and a 
settin' of eggs," she said. 

The cap was soon finished and the hen, etc., 
duly delivered. I took great care in setting the 
hen to have everything according to the most 
approved plan, putting thirteen eggs under her 
for luck, as I was told an even number would be 
disastrous. Biddy was very diligent, hardh r leav- 
ing her nest to eat, but the proper number of days 
elapsed and no chickens appeared. On investiga- 
tion, I found that the eggs were all addled, but I 
had to tie the hen up to convince her of the fact. 
I tried the experiment again and again — in fact, I 
do not know how many times that hen sat, but 
she never raised a chicken. During her times of 
rest from her incubating efforts she became very 
intimate with the family, often going into the 
house and flying up into the chairs or onto the 
beds, and became a great pet with us all ; but she 
was never a success as a brood hen. 



78 THE LIFE STORY OF 



CHAPTER V. 

Heavy Work — Disappointed— Going to Housekeeping — Out- 
fit — AShadow — Pleasant and Lively — ATreacherous 
Friend— Violence— No News from the East— Birth of 
First Boy— Go to Cleveland— Had Run Away— Tricks 
of Students— Husband's Arrival— A Quilting Party- 
Chicken-pox— Baby Very Sick— Thought in No Danger 
—My Baby Dead. 

I WAS very happy with my husband, but mother 
Smith's health was poor and X was obliged to 
work beyond my strength. Being of slight form, I 
was never very strong, and the heavy work of such 
a life many times brought on spells of despondency, 
from simple fatigue. At such times my husband 
would comfort me by planning what we would do 
when we should have a house of our own. I think 
it much the better way for young people to begin 
housekeeping independently from the first after 
marriage, even if it be m one room ; for no matter 
how friendly the relations may be, there is always 
a feeling of dependence experienced by the new 
member of the family. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



79 



At last the time came when my husband was 
twenty-one, but, quite unexpectedly to us, his 
father determined that to divide the farm would 
ruin it, and refused to deed us the land. We were 
very much disappointed; and I think that had 
father Smith kept his promise, much of the trouble 
of after years would have been avoided. But 
there was nothing for us to do but to stay where 
we were for the time; and one day my husband 
came in and said : 

"How would you like to go to housekeeping by 
yourself?" 

I was pleased, but asked him how that could be. 

"Oh," he said, "it won't be so nice as I would 
like, but I can put up a big room to our house, and 
we can be by ourselves." 

I entered into the plan very readily; for some 
change that would define my duties was what I 
wanted above everything else. So the addition to 
father Smith's house was built, being one good- 
sized room, which answered for parlor, kitchen and 
bed-room. My husband then bought a stove, 
which few people in the country had; three 
Windsor chairs, which were quite as much a rarity; 
a few cooking utensils and other small articles, and 



80 THE LIFE STORY OF 

then made a table and cupboard, mother Smith- 
giving us a bed. 

In that way I began my first housekeeping ; and 
I am sure that no one beginning in a mansion, 
with appropriate belongings, could have been 
happier than I. I took great pleasure in adding 
such little embellishments as our resources would 
allow, to our one room, and when some new 
arrangement was finished, would wait for my 
husband's coming, to see his look of surprise and 
enjoy the praises of my ingenuity that he was 
always sure to give. Those days in that one 
room were the happiest of my life; my greatest 
anxiety being when my husband would go to 
Milwaukee with grain or other produce, at which 
times I would wait impatiently for the day on 
which he was to return, and then go a long dis- 
tance on the road to meet him. 

But a shadow was to come over us both — an 
evil that soon blighted my faith in my husband 
and, growing and deepening by constant repeti- 
tion, finally caused our separation. 

My husband was a fine-looking man, generous- 
hearted and agreeable in his ways, and those 
qualities made him a great favorite with all the 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



81 



women of our acquaintance ; yet, a thought of his 
unfaithfulness never entered my mind until forced 
upon me by an occurrence that brought doubt and 
conviction together. 

We had a neighbor who was the wife of a man 
in high office in the county and who often visited 
at our house. She was several years older than 
my husband, but was pleasant and lively, and we 
enjoyed her coming very much. Finally she be- 
came so intimate with us that we hardly went to 
an entertainment of any kind that she was not 
invited to go with us. She often complimented 
me by saying I was very sensible, for a young wife, 
in not being jealous of my handsome husband. 

One day I wanted my husband to go to White- 
water for groceries, but he told me he could not, as 
he had to go to see a neighbor, a man who lived 
about two miles away. I told him the man was 
not at home, as I had seen him pass that morning. 
My husband then said the man was going home 
by another road and would be there by the time 
he (my husband) would get there. 

In going to the man's house, one had to pass the 
road leading to the house of our friend, the lady of 
whom I have spoken, and after my husband had 



82 THE LIFE STORY OF 

gone, I began to think that his manner had been 
singular. I had no definite idea in my mind, but 
the thought struck me that he was trying to play 
some joke on me, and I went out and followed on 
after him. I caught a sight of him now and then 
between the trees, and was about to go back, 
when I saw him turn down the road to our friend's 
house. I was then sure in my mind that there 
was something he did not want to tell me, and I 
thought I would go on and tell him he had been 
fooling me. He reached the house some little time 
before I did, and as I was going up to the door I 
passed a window, and glancing in, saw my hus- 
band with his arms around Mrs. , my supposed 

friend, and hers around his neck. Possibly there 
are young wives to-day who can understand what 
my feelings were — I will not attempt to describe 
them. But I went in and confronted the two, 
hardly knowing whether I had lost my senses or 
not. 

The tears and promises and penitence of that 
interview need not be detailed here, but Mrs. 

begged me- not to expose her to her husband, 

and knowing that to disgrace her was to disgrace 
my own, I promised on conditions that there 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



83 



should be no more such meetings. I loved my hus- 
band too well to expose or upbraid him, but my 
faith in him was broken. We walked home 
in silence, he with his own thoughts, and I wish- 
ing I had died before knowing him as he was. 

Matters went on as usual, outwardly, until one 

day Mrs. came to our house, giving as an 

excuse that people would be sure to talk if she did 
not. My husband insisted on her continuing to 
come, and I soon found that matters were no 
better, and that all the promises had been broken. 

Soon afterwards we were getting ready to visit 
an acquaintance, when my husband said Mrs. 
wanted to go with us. 

That was more than I could bear, and I said, 

"No, Mrs. has gone the last time she will ever 

go an v where with me." 

I was standing before ray husband, fastening his 
necktie, and he pushed me from him with such force 
that I fell against the wall and my head struck a 
nail, which caused the blood to flow. I sank 
down in a chair, and my husband, becoming 
alarmed, called his mother. She thought I must 
have done something to provoke her son to such 
violence, and I then told her the whole story. 



84 THE LIFE STORY OF 

She turned to him and said, "Charles, is this 
true?" 

"Yes, it is all true," he answered. 

Mother Smith was very angry, and said I ought 
not to live with him another day. 

But separation was not to be thought of. I 
was already a mother, my first child being but a 
few months old when the trouble with my hus- 
band began; and I doubt that I could have 
brought my mind to consider a separation, even 
under other circumstances. Then, after mother 
Smith's coming to know of our trouble, my hus- 
band seemed to realize the baseness of his conduct, 
and I began to think I would have no further 
cause for complaint. 

When my child, which was a girl, had been born, 
father and mother Smith had been much dis- 
appointed because it was not a boy ; but I was 
too happy in being a mother to have any choice, 
and the comfort my baby brought me kept me 
from many miserable thoughts. 

We remained at father Smith's till we found that 
it was useless to expect him to deed us the land he 
had agreed to, and which was really rny husband's 
due, as he had put money of his own earning into 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



85 



the payments, when we moved into another neigh- 
borhood and my husband got work as a carpen- 
ter. He had never learned the trade, but he was 
very handy in the use of carpenter tools, and the 
rough work in that new country did not require 
great skill. 

In all the time that had passed I had never 
heard from m} T friends in the east, and at times I 
was nearly distracted at the thought of what 
would become of the brother and sister I had left 
in Cleveland. I had twice written, but never 
receiving an answer, I had almost despaired of 
ever seeing them again. 

Better for me if I never had ! I then would not 
have had this story to write. 

But I did not then know that one's best deeds 
could be warped into condemnations, nor that a 
woman could be convicted — in a court of justice! 
God help us all! — of the murder of a brother 
towards whom she never had a thought of evil. 

On October 14, 1848, my second child was born, 
and as it was a son, ever\-body joined in my hap- 
piness. But he was a very delicate babe, and the 
doctor told me I must make up my mind to part 
with him. 



86 THE LIFE STORY OF 

If a mother ever prayed for her child's life, I 
prayed that my baby might be spared. My health 
had been very poor for some time before his birth, 
and I had become so discouraged and despondent 
that I longed to go back to my old home and see 
if it would not benefit me. I wanted to take 
my babe with me, and I prayed that he might live 
till I could go and let "pa" and "ma" Wemple see 
him, thinking, in my weakness, that I could part 
with him more willingly after that. 

At last the doctor told my husband that a 
change of air and surroundings would do me more 
good than medicine, and that it might benefit the 
baby. It was then spring, and as my child had 
lived through the winter, there seemed to be more 
hope for him. So it was arranged that my hus- 
band should take our little girl and go home to his 
father's during the summer, and if everything went 
well, come after me early in the fall. I disliked 
to leave my little girl, but her grandparents were 
much attached to her and I knew she would be in 
good hands. At last all was ready, and my hus- 
band took me to Milwaukee and put me on the 
boat, and baby and I were soon on our way to 
Cleveland. We had a pleasant trip, everybody 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



87 



petting and admiring the baby, it being the only 
one on the boat. 

When we arrived in Cleveland I started at once 
to go to Colonel Abby's and inquire for my sister. 
I remember that the first person I met with whom 
I was acquainted was Mr. Oscar Welch, whose 
wife had always been a good friend to me. I 
found Colonel Abby's family about as I had 
left it, Mrs. Abby being still an invalid. On 
asking about my sister I was told that a family 
by the name, I think, of Beals had taken her, but 
that my sister Eliza had taken her from them and 
no one then knew where she was. At the time of 
my trial, it was reported among other derogatory 
tales manufactured for the occasion, that I was 
the sister who had taken her from her place ; but 
as I was in Wisconsin with my husband, it will be 
seen how consistent the public was at that time. 

I next asked after William, fully expecting that 
he would be at Dr. Ackley's, where I had left him, 
as the doctor had assured me he would keep him. 
But I was disappointed and chagrined by learning 
that he had run away, and, as in the case of my 
sister, no one knew where he was. On further 
inquiry, however, I found that he was not in the 



'88 THE LIFE STORY OF 

least to blame for having left Dr. Ackley's, as I 
will explain: 

Dr. Ackley had a college in the Mechanic block, 
where he gave students lessons in anatomy, etc., 
and my brother being naturally timid the students 
thought it great fun to frighten him. In those 
days subjects for dissection were gotten from 
— no one except those obtaining them knew where, 
as some are, perhaps, at the present time, and 
often bodies were left in the doctor's barn until 
they could be taken to the college. The hired man 
would let my brother, child that he was, see such 
things, and that, together with the stories and 
tricks of the students, so frightened him that he 
was afraid for his life. This information, gathered 
from different sources at the time, was all cor- 
roborated by William himself afterwards, when 
he told me of the trials and hardness of his lot 
after I went west. 

When I found that I could hear nothing from 
the children, I took the stage for Mr. Wemple's, 
in Collamer. Mr. and Mrs. Wemple were very glad 
to see me, and took my baby into their hearts at 
once. He soon became such a pet with them that 
I was relieved of much of the care of him, and 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



89 



began to regain my health. I passed a very pleas- 
ant summer except the anxiety I felt about my 
husband and little girl. I soon learned that Wil- 
liam had gone to our father, who was then living 
in Fort Wayne, Indiana. 

At last the time drew near for my husband's 
arrival, and one day I was delighted by seeing 
him coming, bringing our little girl with him. He 
explained that he had sold out what we had and 
made up his mind to remain in Ohio, if he could 
get employment. 

My husband had relatives living in Mentor, 
Lake county, and after a few weeks, we went to 
visit them. While there a quilting party was held 
by one of the neighbors and we were invited. 
Soon after we arrived, one of the guests asked 
the lady of the house if her children had yet re- 
covered from the chicken-pox. 

"I think they have," said the lady, "but they 
might give it yet." 

I was frightened at once, and the quilting party 
had no more pleasure for me. I thought of my 
children, both of whom I had with me, and more 
particularly of my baby ; for I remembered what 
the physician had said. The ladies all thought 



90 THE LIFE STORY OF 

there was little danger in chicken-pox, and so I 
remained; but my mind was not at ease a mo- 
ment, and as soon as supper was over we went 
home. I told my husband, and to please me he 
cut our visit short, and we returned to Mr. Wem- 
ple's. 

''Oh, the chicken-pox is nothing," said Mrs. 
Wemple, and then told me that she was glad the 
children would have it while they were where she 
could care for them. 

At the end of the usual time, the disease made 
its appearance on both of the children. My little 
girl did not mind it much, but the baby was very 
sick. Yet, the physician said he would recover. 
In a few days I noticed that his throat was cank- 
ered, and the doctor came and again prescribed 
for him, still saying he was in no danger. He 
soon seemed better, and we all thought he would 
get well. My husband had got emplo\^ment, 
and thinking all danger over, went to his work, 
and soon the doctor came in. 

I told him my baby was better, but he shook 
his head, and said, "Your baby is dying." 

I could not believe him, but in less than three 
hours my baby was dead. I always took the loss. 






SARAH M. VICTOR. 91 

of friends very hard, but I thought the death of 
my baby would kill me. 

Dull as all the above may be to the reader, the 
remains of that little babe were destined to bear 
a part in the trial in which I was convicted of 
murder ; and I give the full details for the reason 
that I shall have occasion to refer to the matter 
farther on. 

As soon as I recovered from the prostration 
caused by the death of my child, we rented a part 
of a house of a Mr. Cary Meeker and went to 
housekeeping. We remained there until a little 
cottage belonging to Mr. Meeker's father became 
empty, when we moved into it. It was a nice, 
cozy, little place, and we were soon very comfort- 
ably settled by ourselves. 

Not long afterwards, my husband's health be- 
gan to fail, and as he had an opportunity to get 
a situation as a traveling salesman, the pln^sician 
advised him to accept it, which he did ; often be- 
ing away from home a week at a time, but always 
coming home on Saturday night. 

As we lived near Mr. Wemple's, I often went 
there with my little girl, sometimes staving a day 
or two ; but we alwa}'s looked forward to Sat- 
urday with pleasure. 



92 THE LIFE STORY OF 



CHAPTER VI. 

A Second Son— Move to Cleveland— Not Sick, But Drunk 
—A Lady Boarder— Joking of a Trick— Visit to Father 
Smith's— Return Home— Away All Winter— Neither 
Money nor Food— A Minister's Call— Work— Some Hot 
Buns— Sewing — Go to Toledo— Not Sick, But Destitute 
—Would not Work— A Letter-box— "He"— A Young 
Girl— Fear for My Life. 

IN September of 1850 a second son was born, 
and I thought it had come to fill the place of 
the one I had lost ; but while I was yet too ill to 
realize my loss he was laid away in the same 
grave with my little Charlie. My illness was pro- 
tracted and wearisome, but as soon as I was able, 
my husband thought it best to move into Cleve- 
land. I did not like the idea, but my husband said 
it would be better for him, and so we went. 

For a time after we moved into the city every- 
thing went well. My husband was very kind to me, 
and as he got good wages, he often bought things 
for my comfort that I could well have done with- 
out. But, gradually, a change came over him, 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 93 

and I began to be troubled about bis conduct. 
He would stay out late at night, always, however, 
having some excuse, of extra work or collecting 
money due him, or something similar. I had 
never known him to drink liquor, and had no fear 
of his ever contracting the habit. But one night 
he came home very late, and saying he was sick, 
threw himself on the bed. I was frightened b\ r his 
singular appearance, and as he would not take 
any of the simple remedies I offered him, I went for 
a doctor. 

When the doctor came, he looked at my husband 
and said, "Why, he's only drunk." 

I had remained up till that late hour in suspense, 
fearing something had happened to him, and then 
to have him come home in a state of helpless 
intoxication was too much, I thought, to bear. 
But I need not describe my feelings ; many a wife 
has had the same experience. I took my child and 
went into another room, and at last became 
calmer, and thought I would beg him never to 
come home in that state again. 

In the morning he was very penitent and made 
many promises. I believe he fully intended to 
break himself of the habit, which he had taken 



94 



THE LIFE STORY OF 



pains to keep from me, but which had been grow- 
ing on him, but it never left him; and while he 
never came home in quite so helpless a state again, 
he often came in a condition that made me dread 
his coming, and which gradually destroyed all my 
faith in him, and all feeling of dependence on him. 

As my husband soon began to lose interest in 
work, I concluded to take some boarders and help 
lveep up our home. So we rented a larger house, 
aniin a short time I had it well filled. I did not 
feel able to hire much help, and so did the entire 
work, with the help of one girl, often working 
from five o'clock in the morning till midnight. 
After a time my health began to fail under the 
strain, and as the house in which we lived was 
about to be sold, we took a smaller one and again 
went by ourselves. 

When father and mother Smith heard of my 
state of health, they wrote for me to come and 
spend the summer with them I did not feel that I 
ought to go, and had decided not to accept their 
invitation, when a little incident, which is in keep- 
ing with a great part of my married life, occurred 
that made me change my decision. 

One day a nicely dressed woman called at the 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 95 

house and told me she was looking for a place to 
board where she could pay a part money and do 
work for the rest, as she was a widow with small 
means and had some business in the city that 
would keep her some weeks. She told a very 
plausible story, and said she wanted a quiet place 
where she could be as one of the family. 

I told her I would have to consult with my hus- 
band, and would let her know the next day 
whether I could accommodate her or not. When 
my husband came home I spoke to him about it, 
and he said I had better take her and have her 
assist me in some sewing I had to do. She came 
early in the morning for her answer, and when I 
told her she could stay, she ordered her baggage 
and was soon settled with us. 

In telling her story to me, she had said she had 
lost both her husband and only child, and I felt 
great sympathy for her. So I took her down 
street with me, and tried to make her stay with us 
as pleasant as possible. But one day when we 
were down town I met a gentleman with whom I 
was acquainted, and stopped a moment to speak 
to him. My boarder walked on a few steps, when 
the gentleman said : 



96 



THE LIFE STORY OF 



"Do you know that woman, Mrs. Smith?" 

"Oh, yes," I answered; "she is a stranger hert r 
and I am taking her around to see the city." 

"Does your husband know you go with her?" 
he then asked. 

"Why, certainly," I said; "she is boarding with 
us." 

"Boarding with you!" he exclaimed, and then 
said, "That woman knows more about this city 
than you do." 

I saw that something was wrong, and I asked, 
"What can I do?" 

"Do nothing. I'll agree she shall leave the city 
quicker than she came," he answered. 

I went home in no pleasant state of mind, but 
said nothing. That evening as my husband, the 
woman and I were together in the sitting-room, I 
took a pitcher to go after some water. As I was 
closing the door I stopped a moment, wondering 
whether my husband had been so base as to act 
the part my suspicions pointed to, or not. My 
curiosity was soon fully satisfied. After joking 
about the trick that had been played on me, their 
conversation was such as to leave no doubts as 
to their relations towards each other. I found 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 97 

that my husband had sunk so low as to bring a 
disreputable woman into the house with his 
own wife, and that, too, by exciting his wife's 
sympathy. 

"That plan worked well; my wife is one of the 
tenderest-hearted women in the world," said he. 

Yet, I said nothing. I dreaded a scandal, and 
then, I trusted somewhat to the gentleman's 
promise that he would see that she left the city. 

The next morning a boy brought the woman a 
note, and on reading it, she said some one of her 
friends was very sick and she would have to go. 
So she went away without giving further trouble 
or knowing that I had learned her character. 

But I felt such a bitterness towards my husband, 
and such contempt for his conduct that I could 
not bear to remain in his society, and I concluded 
to go to father Smith's. When my husband in- 
sisted on knowing why I had changed my mind, I 
told him I knew of his actions and that I thought 
we had better separate until we should both have 
had time to think what was best to be done. 

When I arrived at our old home in Wisconsin, I 
told mother Smith the whole story, as I had done 
on a former occasion. She felt very badly over it, 






98 THE LIFE STORY OF 

but begged of me not to separate from Charles, 
much as she felt that I ought to. He was her 
only son, and she had faith that he would yet 
reform. 

Mother Smith was a good woman, and her 
kindness went far towards reconciling me to 
thoughts of again living with my husband. He 
wrote often, and at last came himself, in the fall, 
and I returned to Cleveland with him. 

After our return, my husband got into the insur- 
ance business, and was away from home nearly 
all winter. For awhile he sent me money, but 
along towards spring he wrote that he was sick 
and could send none. It had been a long time 
since I had received the last, and the rent was far 
past due, while I only had about a dollar with 
which to get food for myself and child. 

One day a minister called and wanted me to 
renew my subscription to the American Messen- 
ger, a paper I had taken for some years. The 
subscription fee was but twenty-five cents, and 
when I said I had not the money, he looked incred- 
ulous, and remarked that I looked comfortably 
situated. I told him that my husband was away 
from home and sick, and that although my house 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 99 

was comfortably furnished, I should have to get 
something to do to earn a living for myself and 
child. I did not tell him that my watch was in 
pawn for the last month's rent, nor that I had 
nothing in the house in the way of food except a 
piece of bread and a little butter, which was, 
indeed, the case. He said his wife had spoken to 
him of someone who wanted some shirts made, 
and he would ask her about it. 

But I must have immediate relief for myself and 
child, and I prayed that something would happen 
that would bring it. 1 put on my bonnet and 
wraps and thought I would go once more to the 
postoffice. Just as I was about to start, a little 
boy, ragged and cold-looking, came to the door 
and asked for something to eat. I did not know 
what to do, but I thought of my own child, who 
was away at school, and then of the little fellow 
who was both hungry and cold, and I went and 
got half of the bread and butter that I had saved 
for my own and gave it to him. 

It was then noon, and I had nothing to eat for 
myself, and, in fact, had eaten nothing but a piece 
of bread for my breakfast. But I went to the 
postoffice, and finding no letter, went around to 



ioo 



THE LIFE STORY OF 



where a man, with whose family I had some 
acquaintance, dealt in eggs, poultry and butter, 
buying the last from farmers and re-working it for 
market. 

Almost as soon as I went in, the man began to 
tell how difficult it was to get help in his work. 
He said that the woman he employed had not 
come that day, and that his "wife, who assisted 
him, could not do it all. 

"How would you like to have me help you?" I 
asked. 

He thought I was joking, and said he would pay 
me and throw in a chicken. 

I took off my wraps and went to work, and in a 
short time he began to think I meant what I said. 
When night came he packed a basket with butter 
and eggs, not forgetting the promised chicken, and 
sent it home after me. 

But when I reached home I was not only very 
tired, but very hungry, and I had no bread, even 
if the other things had been cooked, which they 
were not. But that, even, had been provided for. 
Just as I was taking off my bonnet, an old lady 
who lived next door rapped on my window and 
asked me if I would accept some hot English buns,. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 101 

"just as they were made in the old country." I 
took them and thanked her. When my basket 
came I gave her some eggs, and I do not think she 
ever suspected just how acceptable those hot buns 
were. 

The minister did not forget his promise, and his 
wife brought me half a dozen shirts to make, pay- 
ing me a dollar in advance. My prayer was 
answered ; I had got work, and that would keep 
me from want. I soon got my watch out of pawn 
and earned enough to support myself and child be- 
sides; but still I heard nothing from my husband. 

By the time navigation opened on the lake, I 
had earned ten or twelve dollars above my ex- 
penses, and thought of going to Toledo, where my 
husband was, to see what the trouble was. Some 
acquaintances of mine had a daughter who was 
engaged to a man employed on the lakes, and as 
she wanted to go, they told me that if I would go 
with her, they would get me a pass. So we went 
to Toledo. When I found my husband he was not 
sick, nor had he been ; but for some reason he had 
neither money nor decent clothing. He claimed 
that he had money due him, and I gave him ten 
dollars and went back with mv friend. 



102 



THE LIFE STORY OF 



Some time after that, my husband came home, 
but without money or inclination to work. I had 
plenty to do, and could support myself and child 
but to support a drinking husband was something 
I would not undertake. He had opportunities to 
get employment, but either the wages or work 
never suited him, and he would do nothing. One 
day, however, a man came after him to do some 
carpenter work. He made the objection that the 
pay was not sufficient. I told him he had better 
take the place till he could get something better, 
but he would not go, and the man went away. I 
then told my husband that if he would not work, 
I would not ; that it was his place to support me, 
and not mine to support him. I then folded up 
the sewing I was doing and told him I would do 
no more until he went to work. He took his hat 
and said he would find the man and engage with 
him. He did so and worked quite steadily for a 
while. 

While my husband was traveling in the insur- 
ance business, he formed the acquaintance of a 
woman at Marion, Ohio, and soon after he 
returned from Toledo, I found that she was writ- 
ing to him. While mending a vest of my hus- 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 103 

band's, one day, I found the number of a letter- 
box in the pocket. I sent a note down to the 
office by a German girl who worked for me at the 
time, requesting the letters in the box. When the 
girl returned she brought a letter from the woman 
at Marion, inviting my husband to visit her 
there. 

"The man asked me why they didn't come for 
the letter," said the girl, and upon questioning her 
I found that it was only through her ignorance of 
the English language that the letter had been 
given to her, so willing were the officials to aid a 
man to his own as well as his family's ruin. 

Having been but a short time in this country, 
the girl, like many of the German people, always 
spoke of a woman as "he," and when the post- 
master had asked her why the letter had not been 
called for in person, she had answered that "he," 
meaning me, was not able to come. 

My husband had been talking of going to 
Marion, saying he had business there, and the 
letter put me in possession of a knowledge of the 
nature of the business that he was to spend the 
time and money properly belonging to his family 
upon. When he came home, I told him of the 






104 THE LIFE STORY OF 

letter and asked him if he intended to continue in 
the course he had taken. Up to that time he had 
always professed penitence when confronted with 
any of his misdeeds; but on that occasion he went 
into a violent passion, and raved and threatened 
till I was really in fear of him. 

He accused me of undue intimacy with the post- 
master and threatened to shoot us both. I did 
not dare to tell him I had sent the girl, and thus 
subject her to his abuse, and so was obliged to 
write a note to the postmaster and explain the 
matter, so that he might know how to meet my 
husband's rage. By that means the postmaster 
was enabled to laugh the matter off, telling my 
husband it was better to have been his wife than 
some other person, as wives would forgive, etc. 
Then my husband came home and told me the 
conversation he had had with the postmaster, 
and renewed his oft-given promises of reformation. 
But the promises were never kept, hardly a month 
elapsing at any time in which some act of un- 
faithfulness did not come to my knowledge. 

One day I received a note requesting me to call 
at a certain number in the city, with my little girl, 
and bring a picture of my husband. I at once 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 105 

guessed the purpose of the request, and as I needed 
no further evidence of my husband's misdeeds, I 
would not have gone had it not have been that I 
felt it might be the means of saving some innocent 
person, which, in fact, proved to be the case. 

When I arrived at the house I found a young 
girl, whom my husband had promised to marry, 
telling her he was a single man. Her friends had 
learned the truth, and had taken that way to 
save her. I shall never forget her grief when she 
saw there was no doubt left. She went into an- 
other room before I left, and returning with a 
dress pattern that my husband had given her, 
handed it to my little girl and said : 

"Give that to your father, and tell him that 
perhaps someone will tempt his little girl that 
way." 

I could fill 'many pages with similar recitals, 
but will only say that my husband seemed to 
have lost all shame, frequenting houses of ill-fame ; 
often bringing women of the street home with 
him for meals, until I learned their character and 
forbade it ; and drinking constantly, sometimes 
being in a condition that made me fear for my 
life. 




106 THE LIFE STORY OF 



CHAPTER VII. 

Visit from Father Smith— Takes His Son Home— Child 
Born— Another Wife — Go to Chicago — Finding the 
Certificate — Renewed Promises — Reconciliation— 
Return to Cleveland— Hard Beginning— Looking for 
Help— Getting Out of Debt — Letter from My Hus- 
band—Go to Janesville— Excitement— Comes Home— In 
Fear— With a Hackman— Comments. 

LATE in the fall of 1853, father Smith came to 
see us. I was very glad that he came at the 
time he did, for two reasons: first, because he 
was a good man and always kind to me; and 
second, because he would have an opportunity 
to see how his son kept his promises. 

I was expecting to be confined in child-birth 
in January, and as I felt that I could not live 
through the ordeal and bear the treatment I had 
reason to expect from my husband, I told father 
Smith that he would have to take Charles home 
with him, or I should have to appeal to the law 
for protection. I thought that if he was with 
his own people I would feel that he was under 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 107 

good influences, and as I had some money that I 
had saved from my work . at sewing and some 
given me by my husband when he was in an auc- 
tion store, which he kept at one time, I knew that 
I could live until my child was born, after which 
I could earn my living as I had been obliged to do 
before. 

After talking matters over and seeing for him- 
self, father Smith concluded that nothing better 
could be done than to take his son home with him 
and see if he could not, with mother Smith's help, 
bring him to some sense of his duties; and my 
husband at last consented to go. 

My child was born in less than three months 
after father Smith and Charles went away, which 
shows the falsity of the rumor circulated to assist 
in my conviction for murder, to the effect that the 
child then born was illegitimate. Father Smith 
and all the family knew the circumstances, and 
my husband never doubted the paternity of any 
of his children. 

After the birth of my child, father and mother 
Smith wrote to me and begged me to consent for 
Charles to return to me. I was too ill to answer, 
and when my babv was about two months old, 



108 THE LIFE STORY OF 

they wrote again, saying Charles had gone away 
and they did not know where he was. 

The next that I heard from my husband was 
through a letter received from Chicago, saying 
that he was in that city living with a woman 
whom he called his wife, and that parties were 
ready to arrest him as soon as they could find 
that he was not legally married to her. The letter 
was written by a person who knew of my being 
married to Mr. Smith, but who thought I might 
have become divorced from him. I answered at 
once that Mr. Smith was my husband, but begged 
that he should not be arrested. 

After I had written the letter, I began to think 
that it might be the means of having my husband 
convicted of bigamy, and I could not rest. I 
talked with some friends and they told me that 
would likely be the result. I had but little money, 
but I succeeded in getting a pass to Chicago, and 
started with my child to find its father and save 
him from the law. 

When I reached Chicago, I went to the Tremont 
house, and summoning the proprietor, told him 
my errand and situation. He told me that I could 
remain there till I found my husband, and that he 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 109 

would furnish a carriage for me to drive where I 
thought best to go. As scon as I was somewhat 
rested, I drove to a boarding-house where I 
thought there was a possibility of finding my hus- 
band, and a lady came out, when I asked if Mr. 
Smith boarded there. 

"Not now," she answered ; "he took his wife to 
her father's, yesterday, and when they come back 
they will board at the hotel, " naming the one at 
which they would stop. 

I told the driver to drive to the hotel. They 
there told me that my husband would be there at 
seven o'clock, and also directed me to the shop 
where he worked. 

I found the proprietor of the shop in his office, 
and asked him if Mr. Smith worked for him. He 
said he did, but was absent at the time, and then 
asked if I was a relative. I told him I was Mr. 
Smith's wife and had come to find him. He seemed 
incredulous, and I said that if I could find my 
husband's baggage, I could get my certificate of 
marriage, as he had taken it when he left home. 

Upon that, the man said, "His trunk is here; 
but I don't know about allowing a stranger to 
open it." 



110 



THE LIFE STORY OF 



I told him I would open the trunk in his presence 
and take nothing but the certificate. He said it 
was hard to deny a woman the opportunity to 
defend herself and children, and consented to let 
me open the trunk. I found the certificate, and 
when he saw it he said it was right for me to have 
it, and told me he would withhold my husband's 
wages till he was sure I had made some arrange- 
ments to return home. 

I went back to the hotel where my husband 
was expected and, dismissing the carriage, waited 
for his return. At last he came, and alone, having 
left the woman somewhere else. When I told him 
why I had come, he broke down and cried, telling 
me I was the best woman in the world, calling 
himself a wretch and begging me to live with him 
again. He made the same promises of reforma- 
tion, and I gave up to the same weakness of mind 
and promised to take him back. He had not 
money enough to take us both home, and as the 
man he worked for said he would employ him as 
long as he wished to stay, it was agreed that he 
should remain for a time. 

I went back to the Tremont house, told the 
proprietor of my success and asked for my bill. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. Ill 

"You have acted the part of a true wife," he 
said, "and I have made no bill against you." 

He then made my baby a present of a gold 
piece and wished me success. 

I came back to Cleveland and went to work at 
millinery and dressmaking. I found the beginning 
very hard, with my young child to care for, and 
looked for my husband to send me money to 
assist me. But I looked in vain, with the excep- 
tion of the receipt of five dollars, which he sent 
about two weeks after my return. 

Months came and went, and I worked on, get- 
ting out of debt and taking care of my children, 
but hearing nothing from my husband. At last 
I received a letter from him dated at Janesville, 
Wisconsin, in which he said he was sick and had 
little money, and again asked me to take him back. 

I had been so often deceived that I had little 
faith in any story my husband would tell; but 
I thought that if he was really sick and in 
need, I must not desert him, and, as some friends 
said they would keep my babe during my absence, 
I went to Janesville. When I arrived, I went to 
the principal hotel and asked if they could tell 
me where Mr. Smith boarded. 



112 THE LIFE STORY OF 

"He boards here," was the answer, and I was 
then told that he was selling dry goods at auction 
in the city. 

When I said that I was his wife, the landlord 
refused to give me a room, saying that Mr. Smith 
was a single man and about to be married. 

" She's some fast woman," I heard a man say. 
"Smith hasn't any wife. I'm to be groomsman 
at his wedding." 

That was a worse state of affairs than I had 
looked for, but I told the landlord that if he would 
allow me to sit in his parlor till they could bring 
my husband, if he denied me, I would go away. 

"That's fair," he said, and started out, in a 
short time returning with my husband, not hav- 
ing told him why he was wanted. 

As they reached the door, my husband stopped 
and exclaimed, "My God!" 

I then asked him to tell the landlord whether I 
was his wife or not. 

"Why, you are my wife, of course, but I never 
expected you would live with me again," he an- 
swered. 

At that the landlord offered his hand and begged 
my pardon. I noticed that he was both indig- 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 113 

nant and excited; but it was nothing to the 
excitement that arose when others learned the 
facts. The peopie threatened to lynch my hus- 
band, and if he had not kept out of their reach, 
I believe they would have carried their threat 
into execution. He had professed to be a young 
widower, and had deceived everybody, the young 
girl he was to marry, most of all. 

When on my way to Janesville, there was a 
slight collision on the road, and I, among others, 
was thrown forward against a seat. I had not 
thought myself hurt, but the next morning after 
my arrival I found I could not rise from my bed 
without great difficulty. The effects of the mis- 
hap gave me time to reflect, and I made up my 
mind that I would tell my husband that he could 
do as he liked about going back to Cleveland, but 
that I would never come to him nor look after 
him further. 

When he came out of hiding, he heard that I 
was sick, and he begged so hard of the landlord, 
who was very bitter towards him for his deception, 
to be allowed to see me that he finally got his con- 
sent and came. He renewed his protestations of 
penitence, and I gave him my decision. I returned 



114 



THE LIFE STORY OF 






to Cleveland and again went to work, having been 
away from my baby over a week. 

A few weeks after my return from Janesville, I 
received a letter from the people there, saying my 
husband had taken a woman and left the place. I 
kept on at my work, and as a long time elapsed 
without other news, I had begun to think I should 
hear nothing further, when, one day, I went to 
answer the bell and found my husband at the 
4 door. I could do nothing but make the best of the 
matter, and so allowed him to remain. A Mr. 
Mullen gave him work, and he said he would help 
me to take care of the children. I afterwards 
learned that he had been obliged to come home to 
escape arrest for another difficulty with a woman. 

A short time after my husband came we moved 
into a house on Ohio street, owned by a Mr. 
Lawrence. I had for some time been thinking to 
make an effort to buy a house and have a home of 
my own. My husband would never do anything 
to assist me, but I was at last determined to make 
the effort at the first opportunity, and saved every 
dollar I possibly could. 

While we were living on Ohio street I heard that 
a house near us was for sale on easy payments. I 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 115 

said nothing to my husband about it, knowing it 
would be of no use; but I saved all the money I 
could get from him, as well as all I could save from 
my own earnings. After a while I found that by 
pawning my watch and what jewelry I had, I 
would have enough to make the first payment, 
and I went to the owner and had the papers made 
out in my own name before my husband knew 
anything of it. 

I then told my husband what I had done, and 
entreated him not to spend his money for liquor, 
but help to make the payments, that we might 
have a home for the children. He promised, as 
Usual, and for a time he did give some assistance. 
But he kept the same class of people around him, 
and before long began to drink and conduct him- 
self so badly that I was constantly in fear of him. 
He was away from home at night a great part of 
the time, but one morning about two o'clock he 
came to the house and succeeded in getting in 
before I was aware of it, bringing the driver of the 
carriage in which he had come with him. He was 
very much intoxicated, and made remarks that I 
would not allow my daughter, who was then well 



116 



THE LIFE STORY OF 



grown, to hear, and that I could not myself 
endure. 

I at last got to the door, thinking to call for 
assistance, but seeing the carriage, I told the 
driver that if he did not leave the house and take 
ruy husband with him, I would shoot the horses. 
I had nothing to shoot with, but, fortunately, they 
did not know that. 

The driver only laughed, thinking it was but a 
threat ; but my husband, even in his drunken con- 
dition, realized that I would bear no more, and 
blurted out, " By G — , if she says she will, she will,'* 
upon which they both went away. 

Soon after that, my husband threatened to 
shoot me if I would not give up the papers by 
which I held the house, and I had to have him put 
under bonds to keep away from me. That was 
the last of my life with my husband. 

The recital of all this long train of minute 
details of the infelicity of my married life has been 
as painful to me as its perusal has been tedious to 
the reader; but when it is remembered that my 
separation from my husband, distorted and mis- 
represented, went far towards prejudicing the 
public mind at the time of my arrest, and, conse- 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 117 

quently, had its effect on the jury, by which I was 
convicted in the face of such doubt as would have 
been overwhelming to an unprejudiced mind, my 
motive in giving it will be apparent. 

The preceding is the true story of the life upon 
which men and women commented, as I have been 
told by people whose truthfulness is not to be 
doubted, in the following manner: 

"Oh, there's no doubt of her guilt," said the 
men; "she lived the kind of life that leads to such 
things, and ruined her husband." 

And the women — I regret to say this, when I 
think of the many who hold higher views — but, 
the women, among them many honest wives and 
mothers, doubtless, but ignorant of the subject 
upon which they spoke, said, "Nobody can con- 
vince me she is innocent. Why, she had one of the 
best of husbands, and she conducted so bad he 
had to leave her." 

The above are quoted verbatim, as samples of 
many similar remarks that have come to me. 

To the former, I can say that whether the kind 
of life I lived leads in the direction of murder, or 
not, it never arrived at it, in my case ; and as to 



118 THE LIFE STORY OF 

ruining my husband, the public is herein given the 
facts, and it can decide for itself. 

As to the latter remark, I will only make the 
correction that my husband did not, finally, leave 
me, but I, him, as will be seen by further reading. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



119 



CHAPTER VIII. 



Acquaintance with C. C. Carlton— Insult— Paying a Bill 
— The Rock and the Whirlpool — Divorce — Break Up 
Housekeeping— Some Business Matters— Is He Not Too 
Old— Drifted On— Buying a Stove— Change of Name— 
A Door-plate— House Caught Fire— Suffocated — Mys- 
tery of the Fire-How it Caught— My Child's Confes- 
sion—Intimations. 

AFTER the night on which I forced my hus- 
band to leave the house, I lived in constant 
fear and anxiety. My husband threatened to take 
the children from me, and I was obliged to take 
them into the country to the family of Mr. and 
Mrs. Merrill, of whom I have spoken before as 
having always befriended me. I then thought I 
had better get my house insured, not knowing 
what might happen during my temporary absences 
from home to avoid meeting my husband, whom 
I had fully made up my mind to legally separate 
from. 
Some weeks previous to my final resolve to 



120 THE LIFE STORY OF 

obtain a divorce, a man, who said his name was 
Carlton, called at my house soliciting insurance, 
but as I was not then prepared, I told him that if 
I concluded to take out a policy, I would call on 
him. So when I decided to get my house insured, 
I went down town and inquired for the office of 
Mr. Carlton, the insurance agent. I was directed 
to the office of C. C. Carlton He was not the 
man who had called on me, but as he was a well- 
known insurance agent, that made no difference, 
and I engaged a policy. That was my first 
acquaintance with C. C. Carlton. 

When I bought the house on Ohio street, I was 
not aware that it was encumbered in any way; 
but upon my return from the insurance office, a 
man, whose name it is not necessary to give, called 
on me and said he held a lien, the exact amount of 
which I cannot now recall, on the house, and 
requested payment. He convinced me of the gen- 
uineness of the claim, but the amount, though 
small, was entirely be\ r ond my reach at the time, 
and I was very much troubled. He said he would 
not urge its payment that day, but would call 
again soon. 

After the man had gone, I wrote a note to Mr. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 121 

Carlton, telling him not to make out the policy', 
as I should not be able to pay for it, having dis- 
covered there was a debt on my house that must 
be paid at once. 

Two days afterwards the man came for his 
money. I had five dollars and had thought to 
give him that and ask him to give me time in 
which to pay the balance. But he made some 
propositions to me, which I need not detail, and 
upon my refusing to accept them, he became 
angry, and threatened to put me and my children 
into the street. I thought he could do so, and 
when he mentioned my children, who were, as I 
have said, in the country, I began to cry. He 
was talking loud and insultingly, when the door- 
bell rang, and before I could answer it, C. C. Carl- 
ton walked in, having been at the door and heard 
all that was said. 

He stepped up to the man and said, "Mr. , 

I am surprised at your conduct ; I was at the door 
and, unavoidably, heard your remarks." 

He then told the man that, although he had re- 
ceived a note from me saying I would not be able 
to pay for a policy I had ordered, he had made it 
•out and brought it to me. thinking I would be able 



122 



THE LIFE STORY OF 



to pay for it in time, and concluded by asking 
him the amount of his claim. 

The man was much abashed, and said it was 
"no matter about the bill." 

But Mr. Carlton insisted, and finally paid the 
bill himself, saying I could pay him when I got the 
money. I was very grateful to Mr. Carlton for 
the kindness, and as soon as I got enough money 
I paid him the amount of the bill. When I paid 
him the money, he told me that whenever I needed 
assistance, to come to him. I did so on several 
occasions, the fee for the decree of divorce from 
my husband and other expenses having to be 
paid, and he always kept his word, and, appar- 
ently, with no selfish or impure motive. 

I did not, until it was too late, realize that I 
was shunning the rock only to fall into the whirl- 
pool, or vice versa. But, as I look back now,, 
even with the clearer spiritual vision that time 
and suffering have brought, I cannot dispel the 
feeling — it is, doubtless, not unmixed with self-pity 
— but I have the feeling that my situation at that 
time, without money, and two children to care 
for, with evil and insult on every side, was not 
unlike that of mariners off the Grecian coast, 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



123 



who, according to the old-time story, when in the 
vicinity of Scylla and Charibdis under lowering 
skies and with in-shore winds, found it difficult 
to avoid both. 

Mr. Carlton was wealthy and a widower, hav- 
ing recently lost his wife. Being divorced from 
my husband, I was a free woman, but was nearly 
heart-broken from all I had passed through and 
very much discouraged over the outlook for the 
future. 

I will here say that when I applied for a divorce 
from my husband, I did so on the grounds of the 
misdeeds before detailed, and asked for the cus- 
tody of my children, telling the judge that I did 
not care for a divorce if he could not grant the 
latter. When the hearing of the evidence came, 
I requested the judge to read the depositions 
silently; for the reason that I did not want my 
daughter, who was present, to hear the charges 
made against her father. That is all the secrecy 
there was about my obtaining my divorce, 
much as has been said about it. The judge 
granted all I asked, and told me there was 
never a wife or mother before him for whom he 
felt more sympathy. 



124 THE LIFE STORY OF 

About the time of my obtaining my divorce, I 
broke up housekeeping and went to live at Mr. 
Merrill's, where my children were, giving my 
house on Ohio street over to Mr. Carlton. I 
remained at Mr. Merrill's a considerable length 
of time, but finally returned to the city, when Mr. 
Carlton told me that he would buy a house on 
Webster street, as he could get it much cheaper 
for cash than I could on payments, and would let 
me have it for the same price he paid for it. The 
house he bought was No. 18 Webster street, and 
I moved into it on those conditions. 

I had at last, in a measure, fallen into the very 
evil I had so long combated in my husband. 
Through Mr. Carlton's many acts of kindness, I 
had grown to have perfect faith in him, and had 
riot so much as the slightest doubt that he would 
make me his wife in time. He told me that on 
account of his mother's objections, he did not 
think he would marry while she lived; but he was 
very anxious for me to become acquainted with 
her, saying he thought she would like me if she 
knew me. 

I did so, and one day she said to me, " Don't you 
think Christopher is too old for you? You seem 



^™ 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



125 



young for him. And then, his disposition, do you 
think you would like that?" 

I answered that I thought he had an excel- 
lent disposition ( my sight has been cleared 
since then); but she shook her head and said 
that if he brought a wife home, she would have 
to go. 

I assured her that he had said he would not 
marry while she lived, upon which she looked up, 
in a way peculiar to her, and said, "Oh, then you 
are waiting for me to die! I thought Christopher 
was anxious about something." 

Many times since then I have regretted that I 
did not tell that mother the whole truth and trust 
to her sense of right. But at the time there seemed 
no hope that she would favor a change, and I 
feared that I would incur her son's displeasure if I 
acted contrary to his wishes. 

So I drifted on, sometimes in torture of mind, 
and sometimes at ease, blinded by the thought 
that I had a home and comforts for myself and 
children. I can give no excuse for my life at that 
time, further than may have been seen, except that 
the constant sight of evil makes it tolerable. I 
had suffered from, and condoned so manv out- 



126 THE LIFE STORY OF 

rages of my husband's that such things had 
become familiar to me. Pope's words : 

" Sin is a monster of such hideous mien 
That to be hated, needs but to be seen ; 
But seen too oft, familiar grows its face ; 
First we endure, then pity, then embrace" — 

are quite as true of folly and its attendant evils, 
as of other sin, I think. 

When I went to live on Webster street, few peo- 
ple in the neighborhood knew me, and as I wished 
to live as secluded as possible, I went out very 
little, going only when my business called me and 
occasionally to visit my friends in the country. I 
worked mostly at making shirred bonnets, which 
I left at some millinery stores to be sold. I was 
seldom idle at any time when able to work. I 
was constantly in fear that my husband would 
steal my children from me, and for that and other 
reasons, I desired to make no more acquaintances 
than necessary. 

During that state of matters, I went down town 
one day to buy a stove. I selected one, and on 
giving the dealer the number at which to deliver it, 
he asked, " What name?" 

Just at the moment, my mind was taken from 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 127 

the subject by some customers coming in, and 
thinking the man wanted to know which stove I 
had selected, I answered, "Victor," that being the 
name of the one I had chosen. When the stove 
was delivered, on looking at the bill I found it 
made out to "Mrs. Victor, No. 18 Webster street." 

At first I thought of the matter only as a harm- 
less mistake, but was glad I had not had to give 
my name. As I thought the matter over, the 
latter feeling gave rise to the wish that everybody 
knew me by the name the stove dealer did, for the 
protection of my children both from their father 
and scandal, should the latter arise. 

In talking with my friends in the country, I 
laughingly said, "You must call me Mrs. Victor, 
now, for I have a new name," at the same time 
relating the incident and expressing the wish I 
have mentioned. 

They knew the fear I had of losing my children, 
and said that to put a plate on my door bearing the 
name of Victor might mislead Mr. Smith, and I did 
so. After that those who did not know my real 
name took up the new one, and I soon became 
"Mrs. Victor" to all. There never was any claim 
made by me, nor to my knowledge, by my friends, 



128 THE LIFE STORY OF 

that I had, through a second marriage, any right 
to the name, but after it came into such general 
use, I adopted it and have held it ever since. 

I kept so secluded that my neighbors knew little 
of me until an accident occurred, which I will now 
relate. 

One morning I was expecting my friends from 
the country, and after finishing my morning's 
work, was about to dress for their coming. A 
man was cutting a tree across the way, and as my 
little boy was alone with me, I told him he could 
stand at the parlor window and look through the 
shutters to amuse himself while I went up-stairs 
to dress. 

"Don't go up 'tairs; 'tain't nice up there," said 
he. 

I thought he did not want to be left alone, and 
saying I would hurry, opened the stairway door, 
when, to my dismay, I was met by dense smoke. 
I at once thought the house was burning, but 
could not imagine how it had caught fire. I got a 
pail of water and hurried up, half strangled, and 
as no fire was visible, I felt of the walls and floor 
to see if they were hot. I then raised a window 
for air, at the same time calling for help. As I 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 129 

turned back and attempted to pull the clothes 
from the bed, flames burst out and I saw where the 
fire was. I caught the pail and threw the water 
on, but the steam and smoke suffocated me, and 
when I came to I was in a neighbor's house, where 
I had been carried insensible. 

In that way my neighbors began their acquaint- 
ance with me. Everj^body was very kind, some 
saying they were rather glad than sorry the ac- 
cident had occurred, as I had kept myself so 
secluded before. 

For a long time I did not know how the fire 
originated; but as I had matches that ignited 
very easily, I supposed that I had left some on the 
stand and they had caught in the clothes when 
my daughter had made the bed. 

I gave that as the probable solution of the mys- 
tery until one day my little boy said, "Mamma, 
what makes 3'ou say sister set the bed on fire?" 

On his asking the question, I explained why I 
thought so. 

He then exclaimed, "Oh, mamma!" 

I saw in a moment that he knew something 
about the matter, and on my questioning him he 
told me that he had gone up there when I was at 



130 THE LIFE STORY OF 

work, and taking some matches under the bed, 
had ignited them on the floor, and when the fire 
caught he had become frightened and come 
down. 

His own expression of it was, "I bio wed and 
blowed, and it wouldn't go out, and I shut the 
door quick and came to see if the man was cutting 
the big tree." 

The disastrous results of his act had so fright- 
ened him that he had not dared to tell the facts 
before, but he was a conscientious, pure-minded 
child, and he could not bear to see his sister blamed 
for what he had done himself. 

The foregoing contains all the facts in regard 
to the matter ; but the occurrence was considered 
of sufficient importance to be recalled when I was 
on trial for my life, and although the unconscious 
condition in which I was carried from the fire 
must have been well known, the newspapers 
teemed with intimations that I had been guilty 
of incendiarism in firing the house I lived in; in 
that way striving to show a dangerous depravity 
of character on my part. 

But that accusation was as nothing, compared 
with the insinuation that usually accompanied 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



131 



it, and which was that I had taken the life of 
my own child, my little boy, the particulars of 
whose death will be found in the following 
chapter. 



~^ 



132 THE LIFE STORY OF 



CHAPTER IX. 

My Daughter — Seeing the Absurdity — A Sensational Re- 
port—Daughter's Marriage— My Boy's Last Illness- 
Measles — Predicting His Own Death — Prediction Ful- 
filled—Six o'Clock— A Negative Taken— An Epitaph — 
A Picture— Three Years Ago— An Act of Kindness — 
There, In a Prison— Sixteen Years— Fertility of Brains. 
—A Bitterness— Before He Calls Me. 

FOR a while after moving to Webster street, 
I sent my daughter to the academy at 
Collamer, and later to a select school in the city. 
I used every means in my power to give her a 
good education and promote her happiness. As 
she was still very young, I cautioned her against 
the attentions of gentlemen and did everything 
possible under the circumstances to make her life 
less full of trouble than mine had been. She was 
a bright, handsome girl, and very mature for her 
age. I allowed her to receive no gentlemen com- 
pany, but knowing' she must have some recrea- 
tion, I allowed her to go out occasionally to some 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



133 



select parties, Mr. Carlton always accompanying 
her and seeing her home. 

Doubtless some indignant mother will here ex- 
claim, ''Pretty influences to put around a young 
girl for her protection !" 

To such I would say that I see all the absurdity 
now, at sixty, but that one knows the power of 
adverse circumstances much better after it has 
been felt than before. 

Nothing immoral, however, befell my child at 
that time, much as may have been the danger. 
But, by going to the parties, she became ac- 
quainted with a widower, a man much older than 
herself, and to her marriage with whom I at first 
strenuously objected. As soon as I learned of the 
acquaintance I forbade my daughter receiving 
any further attentions from the gentleman, but in 
a short time I found that he was taking every 
means to persuade her to disobey me. He would 
meet her on her way from school and walk with 
her, and in various ways contrived to be in her 
society. At last he enticed her away from home 
to attend a party with him, and when I found she 
had gone, I was very much troubled. * 

Of that occurrence there was a highly sensa- 



134 THE LIFE STORY OF 

tional story told by somebody, ending with the 
startling assertion that I had appeared at the 
party flourishing a revolver and threatening to 
shoot those who refused to tell me where my daugh- 
ter was. The simple facts were that I never left my 
house that night except to find Mr. Carlton, that 
he might go after my daughter, which he did. 

All such matters were brought up at the time of 
my arrest, given new coloring and significance, and 
added to the weight that would have tightened 
the hangman's noose had not the Almighty staid 
its course. 

After the occurrence of the party, the man came 
to me and said that his intentions were honorable; 
that he loved my child and wanted to marry her, 
and asked my consent, telling me that my daugh- 
ter had sent him. 

I thought I could convince her that it was not 
best, and said I would wait until I had talked 
with her, before giving my answer. I then had a 
long talk with my child, but finding her very much 
determined, and remembering that I had given her 
few opportunities to make a better choice and 
could do no better in the future, I consented. Her 
suitor went down and brought the clerk of court 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



135 



with his book for me to sign, fearing I would 
change my mind, and, soon after, they were 
married. 

It was not long before I regretted having given 
my consent, as the man seemed entirely unfitted to 
make any woman happy. He would take my 
daughter to parties and places of amusement, and 
then, without any apparent reason, absent him- 
self and leave her to summon a carriage or accept 
the escort of some acquaintance. I remonstrated, 
but it did no good. After my arrest, I lost all 
knowledge of my child, but I am sure that if she 
ever failed in wifely duty, the fault was her 
husband's. 

Some time after my daughter's marriage, my little 
boy, who was then all I had with me, was taken 
sick and died. One day he had been playing with 
a little boy who lived across the street, and when 
he came home he complained of being cold and 
"hurting all over." I took off his shoes and sat 
him near the stove. In a short time he told me 
that he felt very sleepy, and I laid him on the 
lounge. He soon went to sleep, but I noticed that 
his face was unusually red, and having always been 
told that a child would be inclined to sleep after 



136 THE LIFE STORY OF 

receiving a hard blow or shock, I feared that he 
had fallen and hurt himself while playing. So I 
■left him sleeping and went over and asked his 
playmate's mother, Mrs. Sanger, if Charlie, my 
boy, had hurt himself in any way while there. 
-She said he had not, but that she had noticed that 
Iris face paled and reddened often while he was at 
play. She said the children had been playing 
"church," and, as Charlie had been the preacher, 
she thought his changes of color due to ex- 
citement. 

As I crossed the street to my house, a physician, 
Dr. Eddy, who lived near, was at his gate, and I 
asked him to go in with me and see if there was 
anything the matter with Charlie. 

"Oh, nonsense," said the doctor; "you think 
too much of that child. I saw him coming across 
the street awhile ago and his cheeks were rosy 
with health." 

I explained why I asked him, and he went 
in. He found that Charlie had a good deal 
of fever, but said it was a cold and that he 
would be over it by morning. He brought some 
simple remedies, and told me to call him again 
if necessary. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



137 



In the morning my boy was no better, and the 
doctor asked if he had been exposed to the 
measles, saying his symptoms indicated that dis- 
ease. Mr. Carlton soon came, and when he saw 
how sick Charlie was he went down and sent Dr. 
Wheeler, in whom he had mor.e faith than in Dr. 
Eddy, to attend him. But I still kept Dr. Eddy, 
as he was of the same school and lived nearer. On 
the third day a profuse eVuption of measles oc- 
curred, which showed what the disease was, but 
did not seem to benefit my child. 

A few days afterwards he said to me, "Mamma, 
I'm going to die and go to Heaven, but don't cry 
as you did when papa was drowned." 

I had seen the name of "Charles Smith" in the 
list of those lost in a disaster on Lake Michigan 
and thought it was his father. Charlie had seen 
me cry when I read the news, and thought his 
father dead. His words so overcame me that I 
put my head down near him and cried, upon which 
he said he would ask God to take care of me. 

One day, an old lady by the name of Snyder, but 
whom we called "Granny," came in, and thinking 
to cheer Charlie, offered him ten cents. 

He pushed the money away and said, "No, 



138 THE LIFE STORY OF 

Granny; give it to some poor little boy, for I'm 
going to Heaven." 

He was one of the most kind-hearted children. 
He would never see a poor, ragged child but he 
would ask me to give it something to eat or wear. 
At last putrid sore throat set in, and as I was very 
much worn out from loss of sleep, I engaged a 
good nurse, a Mrs. Carpenter, to assist me. But 
no care seemed of any avail, and the doctors told 
me there was little hope. 

One day at the last, he looked up and said, 
"Mamma, there's Uncle Lon." 

His uncle Alonzo, the husband of one of my 
sisters, had died about a year before, and thinking 
that someone had passed who looked like him, I 
turned towards the window. 

i ' Not there, mamma ; he's right here. Don't you 
see him?" said he. 

I shall never forget the despair those words 
brought, and I shall always believe my child saw 
his uncle in some way not understood by us here. 

The next morning, "Granny" came in, and 
Charlie seemed glad to see her, but told her he 
was going to die that night. When the doctors 
came, I told them I feared he was out of his mind, 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



39 






but on their speaking to him, he knew them both 
and told them he was going to die at six o'clock, 
asking them to come again at that time. The}- 
told him they would come, and when they went 
away they told me there was no hope, and that 
possibly he had predicted the time of his death. 

In the afternoon he wanted to put his arms 
around my neck, and when I laid my head down 
beside him, he prayed God to take care of his 
mamma. 

Many times when in prison I thought of that 
prayer, and in my weakness and doubt, wondered 
how God could have heard it and yet allowed me 
to be there. Often when my faith almost failed me 
I would reason that my darling, innocent boy, 
only five years old when he died, could not have 
been mistaken, and my hope would revive. 

Towards evening the doctors returned, and on 
seeing him, said he was going. They sat down 
and took out their watches, and I heard Dr. 
Wheeler say he had once had the case of a child 
that predicted its own death. I could not control 
my feelings, and did not notice the time, but the 
people told me my boy died exactly at six o'clock. 

I did not realize that he was gone, until Mr. 



^ 



140 THE LIFE STORY OF 

Carlton, who was present, said, "Poor little 
Charlie!" 

Mr. Carlton loved my boy, and that fact has 
borne its part in my feelings toward him through 
all the years since. He wept with me over my dead 
child, and when in my grief I said I had lost my 
all, he said, "No, you have me ; and I promise here, 
now, never to forsake you." 

How well he kept the promise, the public may 
judge. 

My daughter and her husband spoke of having 
a picture taken of Charlie, as we had none, and as 
he had been in the habit of getting into a large 
arm-chair I had and going to sleep, we put him 
into it, that he might look more natural, and had 
a negative taken. A Mrs. McLaughlin wrote a 
little poem on his death, the first verse of which I 
had engraved on his tombstone, and which was as 
follows : 

" Thou art gone, my darling child, 
Thy little life is o'er; 
Thy ringing laugh and bounding step 
Shall greet mine ear no more." 

Thinking that one who had shown so much 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



141 



interest would prize a picture of my child, I gave 
her one, and she seemed to value it highly. 

Surely, no mind could have foreseen where and 
under what circumstances I would see that picture 



Three years ago, a nephew of the lady came to 
the prison and to see me. During our conversa- 
tion he told me that his aunt, who was then in 
North Carolina, still had the picture of my child, 
and on my telling him that I had none — not even 
the smallest token, however sacred, having been 
left me when the law and the populace plundered 
my home — he said he would write to his aunt, and 
that he was sure she would send me the picture. 
After a little time, the young man sent me the 
picture, having received it from his aunt ; and I 
hope God has blessed both for the act of kindness. 

There, in a prison, among criminals of all kinds, 
I looked on the pictured face of my dead baby boy 
for the first time in over sixteen years. Is there a 
mind that can imagine the memories that came to 
me then? Is there a heart that can understand 
the blighting sense of injustice; the dull anguish of 
helplessness ; the torturing pain of desertion that I 
felt? 



142 



THE LIFE STORY OF 



I have often thought since then that it was 
doubly well that I was innocent of all crime ; for had 
not self-pity at last brought relief in tears, I feel 
that I would have again lost the reason that had 
been so fully restored. 

As previously mentioned, the newspapers— pure 
public teachers that they should be— teemed with 
insinuations, at the time of my arrest, that I had 
murdered this, my only boy. The darkly-hinted- 
at reasons for the act were various and contra- 
dictory; some of the accounts tending to show 
that I had committed the crime in revenge for my 
child's setting the fire and thus exposing me to the 
public, and others intimating that I had both set 
the fire and murdered my boy ; leaving the reasons 
for both acts, probably, to the fertility of such 
brains as would harbor a thought of either. 

What particular mind was sufficiently disposed 
to evil to originate the suspicion that a mother 
could, without so much as the shadow of any 
provocation, deliberately murder her innocent 
baby, only five years old, I have never known ; but 
the wound that the insinuation, heralded by the 
public press and bandied about by the people as it 
was, gave me, left a bitterness in my heart that 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



143 



up to the present time I have vainly tried to sub- 
due. While my mind long ago arrived at a state 
of forgiveness and sorrow towards those who have 
wronged and misjudged me in many ways, I have 
never yet been able to overcome the feeling of 
intolerance that arises when I think of a nature 
so veritably brutal as to promulgate, or listen to 
without protest, the insinuation that an own 
mother, loving her children as I was known to do, 
would and did murder her youngest child. 

But, hoping that God will enable me to cast 
aside the feeling before He calls me, I will now pass 
on to further details. 



144 THE LIFE STORY OF 



CHAPTER X. 

A Determination— Going to See Mr. Smith— The Interview 
—Foreboded No Good— A Regret — Returned to Cleve- 
land — Meeting with Mr. Carlton — A Question — 
Utterly False— Sent a Man to Chicago— " Read This 
at Your Leisure" — Resolution Put Away— A Trip 
Through the East— West Point — St. Catherines — 
Montreal— Why I Lay Bare the Incidents. 

WHEN my boy died, Mr. Carlton told me 
that I could leave everything to him, and 
I did so. He went to the undertaker and told 
him, as the undertaker himself, Mr. Duty, told me 
afterwards, to do by my child as he would if it 
was his own. That act of Mr. Carlton's naturally 
increased my affections for him, and as he con- 
stantly assured me of his devotion to me, I 
thought I had little cause to doubt him. 

After my child's death, however, I felt that I 
could not live as I had been doing any longer. 
My daughter was married, my boy was dead ; and 
feeling that I no longer had cause to submit to the 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 145 

humility of living as an unwedded wife, I deter- 
mined that I would not. 

Ever since I had become divorced from my hus- 
band, he had made threats that if I ever married 
again, he would shoot both me and the man who 
married me; and the fear that he might carry the 
threat into execution had deterred me, in a great 
measure, from insisting on such a step and possi- 
bly causing trouble in the future. So, when I 
came to the conclusion that I must not, could not 
and would not continue in the way I had been liv- 
ing, the only course that seemed practicable was 
for me to go to Mr. Smith, whom I had learned 
was living in Milwaukee and had again married, 
and hear for myself what his feelings were ; leav- 
ing my after course to be determined by the inter- 
view. 

Mr. Carlton knew that I was discontented 
after my child died, and I told him I was going 
away, leaving a key to my house with him, but 
telling him nothing of my intentions. When 1 
arrived in Milwaukee, through my making inqui- 
ries for my former husband, his wife heard that I 
was in the city and sent for me, as she wanted to 
ask some questions. I went, and talked with Mr. 



146 THE LIFE STORY OF 

Smith and his wife together. I found that he had 
represented to her that he had procured the 
divorce. 

When I corrected that, his wife, who seemed to 
be a good woman, but already somewhat tried by 
the unstable nature of her husband, said, "I 
believe you would go back to her now, if she 
would take you." 

I hastened to allay any such fears on her part, 
assuring her that my separation from him had 
been duly considered before made, and was final. 

When I made the purpose of my coming known, 
I found Mr. Smith as inconsistent as ever, and full 
of intolerance at the thought of my marrying 
again. 

When I parted from his wife I gave her my best 
wishes for herself and her life with her husband, 
and with her consent he accompanied me a part of 
the way to my stopping place. When we were 
alone he tried to wring a promise from me that I 
would never marry again, knowing that a man 
whom I had long known there in the west would 
marry me at any time. Having heard, through 
parties in Cleveland, as he told me, that Mr. Carlton 
was visiting me. he said many things about him, 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 147 

some true and some false, but all showing that his 
feelings foreboded no good to him. 

I refused to make the promise, and advised him 
to stop the use of liquor, be kind to the woman he 
had married and yet make something of his life. 
In that way I parted with him for the last time. 

When I returned, I did so w r ith the full deter- 
mination of taking all my goods and leaving 
Cleveland and Mr. Carlton forever. I had prayed 
God to direct me, and I believe He brought me to 
that resolution. Ah ! had I onh^ kept it ! 

I had made up my mind to settle up all my 
affairs and go west, and see if I could not make 
the future brighter for myself than the past had 
been. • 

But, after I arrived in Cleveland, as I was walk- 
ing along Superior street, I met Air. Carlton. I 
shall never forget his emotion on seeing me. He 
caught me in his arms and kissed me, there on the 
public street, before I could deter him, and seemed 
perfectly carried away by his feelings. 

We were not a great distance from his office, and 
he said, "We must go up and let Lee know you 
are back." Mr. Lee was his son-in-law. 

I was glad to get off the street, and went up. 



148 



THE LIFE STORY OF 



"Lee, she has come back! " said Mr. Carlton. 

"I knew she would," Mr. Lee answered. 

I would like to ask here if any think it probable 
that a man having any claim to respectability 
would greet a "woman of the town" as Mr 
Carlton greeted me ? 

Yet, it has been reported all through the years 
of my imprisonment and even since my release that 
I was a woman of general bad character and kept 
a disreputable house at No. 18 Webster street. 
The statement is utterly false, dear reader. I have 
said the same many times before, but one cannot 
get a hearing with the public when behind prison 
bars. Had anyone, however, taken the trouble to 
go to those who lived near me on Webster street, 
there would have been no difficulty found in learn- 
ing the falsity of the assertion. A few kind women 
did, among other just deeds, go to that trouble, 
and the result is that I do not write this later 
reiteration amid the maddening sights and sounds 
of former times, but out in sight of green trees and 
grasses, and with the ring of children's laughter 
coming to my ears. 

When I went up to my house, some of the 
neighbors came in to welcome me, and not know- 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 149 

ing that I had already seen him, told me that Mr. 
Carlton had changed so much from worrying over 
my absence that I would hardly recognize him. 
They said that on his occasional visits to the 
house while I was away, they had asked him 
about me and he had told them I had not written 
to him. There seemed to be a feeling of sympathy 
for Mr. Carlton, as everybody knew of his 
mother's objections to his marrying. 

The same evening, Mr. Carlton came up to the 
house, and I told him the determination I had 
come to. He would hear to nothing of the kird, 
and told me that he had become so anxious about 
me that he had gone to Mr. and Mrs. Merrill, in 
Nottingham, and had induced Mr. Merrill to gc 
after me, bearing all his expenses and paying hitr 
one hundred dollars for going. 

He said that he first went to a lady with whom 
I had gone up the lakes, and that as she told him 
she thought I was in Chicago, he had sent Mr. 
Merrill to that place, where he still was when I 
returned to Cleveland. 

As before mentioned, I had made my house on 
Ohio street over to Mr. Carlton, and although he 
had bought the house on Webster street for me, I 






150 THE LIFE STORY OF 

as yet, had no deed of it. So, at the time of 
my leaving home, I had said that as I was 
childless and homeless, it mattered little where I 
went. 

Mr. Carlton spoke of remembering what I had 
said, and then took a large envelope from his 
pocket, and handing it to me, said: "Read this 
at your leisure, and if you want to, get it re- 
corded." 

The inscription on the envelope read, "Mrs. 
Sarah M. Victor, Life Lease, Cleveland, Ohio." 

I took out the enclosed paper, and saw that it 
was a life lease on the house I lived in, No. 18 
Webster street. I cannot recall the exact wording 
of the document, but it began with: "In consid- 
eration of the sum of (here followed either 'two' 
or 'three') hundred dollars." 

When I had read that far, I wondered what it 
meant, as I did not know what amount was at 
that time due me from Mr. Carlton, but I immedi- 
ately thought that the amount mentioned was 
what was due from the house on Ohio street, 
about which there had never been any settlement 
between us. Upon asking Mr. Carlton about it, 
he said that the amount mentioned in the lease 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 151 

was what was due me, according to his 
reckoning. 

On reading what followed, I found that the lease 
gave me the place on Webster street, for the length 
of my ''natural life," with the proviso that I 
should not, of my own accord, remain away from 
the premises for a certain space of time, the exact 
length of which I cannot now remember, but 
think it was a year or more. I remember of being 
impressed by what seemed to me the great length 
of time mentioned, but cannot now definitely 
recall what it was. 

I remember distinctly that the lease was signed, 
'" Christopher Columbus Carlton," and that Mr. 
Carlton told me that he had signed his full name 
so that in case of his death there would be no 
trouble about the lease. There were two or three 
other names signed to the paper, but, although I 
suppose they were those of the witnesses, I cannot 
remember them. 

Even after Mr. Carlton gave me the lease, I told 
him that I thought the right course was the one I 
had determined on ; that it would be better for us 
both in the end. I said that I did not feel satisfied 
to live as I had done, and as there were obstacles 



152 THE LIFE STORY OF 

in the way, on both sides, of our marrying, I 
thought he might find someone that would please 
his people, and could make her his wife. 

He said that he supposed that if his family had 
a choice, it would be a certain lady, whom he men- 
tioned, but that ''if she was the last woman on 
.earth," he would not marry her. 

When I insisted on carrying out my intentions, 
he supplicated and reasoned and finally cried, 
through all assuring me that he could never have 
so much as the least affection for any other 
woman. 

His tears and pleadings awoke my love for him, 
which I had earnestly tried to put out of my mind, 
and I will not deny that pride over his choice of 
me above all others and thoughts of his wealth 
had their influence. He renewed his promises, and, 
with the sophistry current then as well as now, 
declared them as binding as though made before a 
clergyman. 

When I thought of what the future would be 
away from him, I found my resolution wavering, 
and I finally put it from me and promised to 
devote my life to him so long as we both should 
live. 



SARAH. M. VICTOR. 153 

Not long after that, as my mind was still far 
from being at ease, Mr. Carlton proposed making 
a trip through the east and the Canadian provinces 
and taking me with him. We visited all the prin- 
cipal eastern cities, going, among other places, to 
West Point, to see Mr. Carlton's son Caleb. We 
then crossed over to Canada, and at St. Cather- 
ines met a friend of Mr. Carlton's from Cleve- 
land, a Mr. Charles Dixon, who was, I be- 
lieve, a forwarding merchant. On seeing him, 
Mr. Carlton made the entry, " Charlton and lady " 
on the hotel register, followed by his own name, 
C. C. Carlton. I did not like the proceeding, but 
Mr. Carlton explained it by the same specious 
reasoning he always used when I objected to his 
ideas of right. 

At Montreal we met Joshua R.Giddings of Ohio, 
and as I had told Mr. Carlton not to again use 
subterfuge, but to tell the truth, he did so, and I 
was relieved from embarrassment while in Mr. 
Giddings' society, which we were at different 
places. 

I am aware that in laying bare all the little inci- 
dents of a part of my life that the recollection of 
should bring but a sense of humiliation, I expose 



154 THE LIFE STORY OF 

myself to the condemnation of many who, knowing 
but few of the facts in my case, owing to the length 
of time that has elapsed, may think it done with a 
desire to create a sensation ; but, when crime, greed 
for money, popular prejudice and law combine to 
hang an innocent woman, and failing in that — even 
though through the interposition of Providence— 
with revived energy and added allies endeavor to 
force her to a lingering death, it would seem to be 
quite time for her to speak in her own behalf. 

Possibly there are some who will say that it is 
past time — that as I have regained my liberty, I 
should now forget the past and seek rest in the 
quiet of obscurity. 

Of such I would ask, why so? Provided that 
there was an obscurity that would give me rest 
from thoughts of injustice and protect me from 
further doubt and scorn, which it must be appar- 
ent to all, there is not, would it be advisable to 
allow falsehood to live, and let truth die ? I think 
not. 

That I could not speak fully before this time, has 
been through no fault of mine, but may be accred- 
ited to the forces before mentioned. And now that 
I am free, even though I had no desire to stand 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 155 

justly before the world myself for the few years of 
life that may be granted me, I should consider 
myself unworthy of the kindness and effort and 
faith of those who have given me that freedom, 
did I not let the public know why they worked, 
with a patience hardly to be estimated, through 
sixteen long years to secure it. 

Then, there are intemperance and licentiousness ; 
neglected wives and helpless mothers; false-reason- 
ing and wealth yet in the world, while courts and 
juries are still fallible. And I long ago determined 
that I would give my whole story to the public, 
with the hope that the number of Samaritans who 
came tome might be augmented, and similar needs 
be recognized through mine. 



156 THE LIFE STORY OF 



CHAPTER XI. 

More at Ease— An Error Corrected— Working in the 
Church— Buying Lots— My Sister Libbie— Marries Dr. 
Gray— Working for the Soldiers— My Brother's En- 
listment— "The Boys"— A Will Made— Getting the 
Life Insurance — The War Closes — Pawned His Watch 
— Going to Mr. Fenner's— A Fall in the Barn— Acci- 
dent Insurance — Paying the Physician — Remarks. 

AFTER we returned to Cleveland my mind 
was more at ease, as I felt secure in the 
conviction that Mr. Carlton would give me the 
protection of the law of our own state should any 
question arise in regard to our relations. He took 
me to his house to dine, and we made calls and 
attended church together. 

I will here correct another statement of the 
press or the people — I do not call to mind which : 
It was said that I was at one time a member of 
the Euclid Avenue Presbyterian church, and was 
expelled for misconduct. As I was never a mem- 
ber of that church, I could not well have been 
expelled. But I did unite with Trinity church 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 157 

(Episcopal), and was a member in good standing 
up to the time of my arrest. 

As I have said, I felt secure in the faith I had in 
Mr. Carlton's honor, and as I then had no chil- 
dren to care for, I concluded to devote all the time 
I could to works of usefulness for others. As the 
charities of the church to which I belonged offered 
an opportunity, I entered into them, teaching a 
class in the Sabbath-school, assisting in looking 
after the interests of Trinity Church Home for Old 
Ladies and doing all I could at all times. 

At that time building-lots in Cleveland did not 
command the price they do now, and as I had a 
small sum of mone}% I bought two lots, and 
thought I would wait for them to rise in value. I 
soon sold them for much more than I had paid, and 
bought again. I repeated the same several times, 
always doing well on my investments. In that 
way I began to accumulate the property I owned 
at the time of my arrest. 

Somewhere about that time— I cannot recall the 
date — my youngest sister, Libbie, of whom I have 
spoken as being the baby at the time I last saw 
my mother, wrote to me from St. Louis, Missouri, 
telling me that her husband had deserted her, and 



158 THE LIFE STORY OF 

asking me to send her money with which to come 
to Cleveland. My sister had not escaped the 
temptations and evils that often beset young girls 
when beautiful and without proper protection, 
and had fallen into many errors. She was a beau- 
tiful woman, dangerously so for her own welfare 
and consequently that of others. She had married 
in Cleveland when only fourteen years old, had 
separated from her husband and gone west, where 
she married again. By her second marriage she 
had a child, which, owing to the desertion of its 
father, she put into an orphan asylum. On my 
last visit to the west I had, after much trouble, 
succeeded in restoring her child to her, thinking its 
care and presence would restrain her from making 
further mistakes, as she seemed to have a true 
mother's love for it. 

I consulted with Mr. Carlton about her coming, 
and he opposed it; yet I could not shut my ears to 
such an appeal from the baby I had promised my 
mother to look after, and so sent her the money. 
She came to Cleveland, bringing her child with her, 
and I took them both into my home, caring for 
the latter as though it was my own. 

My sister lived with me some months, possibly 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 159 

half a year, when a Dr. Gray, a widower, then 
living in Cleveland, became infatuated with her, 
and in spite of all my protests, and although Dr. 
Gray had a family of young children, she married 
him. 

Dr. Gray was very much devoted to my sister, 
but, as I had foreseen, the inequality of the circum- 
stances — my sister's love of admiration and the 
ideas she had adopted, against Dr. Gray's domestic 
responsibilities — made their life together very 
unhappy. From little differences at first, their 
troubles grew into open quarrels, and finally they 
separated, Dr. Gray claiming that neither his 
children nor himself were safe in the same house 
with his wife. 

While I could not blame Dr. Gray for separating 
from my sister, my sympathy for her was as great 
as ever, and I took her into my own home again. 
With the variable temper and habits inherited 
from an insane father and a mother tried by all 
manner of vicissitude, she was the source of much 
anxiety and unhappiness to me. I will not go into 
irrelevant details, but will speak of those of im- 
portance farther on. 

After the war began, in '61, I joined with the 



160 THE LIFE STORY OF 

loyal women of the Nation in sewing, picking lint, 
knitting socks and doing all that women's hands 
could accomplish to make the lot of those gone 
out to protect our homes less arduous, little 
thinking that I had a dear brother who had risked 
his life with the rest. But, one day I got word 
that my brother William, the only brother I had 
living and whom I had not seen since he was a 
little boy, had enlisted. 

My eldest brother had died in the war with 
Mexico many years before, and thoughts of the 
danger my younger brother was in brought a feel- 
ing of sadness ; but with it came a pride and satis- 
faction in the thought that the little boy who had 
been beaten about the world without care or over- 
sight had grown intoamanhood with the courage, 
to answer to the country's call for aid. 

As soon as I got my brother's address, I wrote 
to him, and from the answer I received and from 
what he told me many times afterwards, I suppose 
there was never a more happy boy than he was 
when he received my letter. I wrote to him often, 
to cheer and encourage him, sending him postage 
stamps and stationery, that he might write to me 
whenever an opportunity occurred. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 161 

To the younger people who ma}^ read this, I will 
savthatitwas the custom of all who had friends in 
the army to send such supplies, many times sending 
the envelopes already superscribed to themselves 
or others left behind, that the soldier, when 
fatigued from long marches, without money or 
out of reach of the sutler's camp, could pencil his 
thoughts and, putting them into the ready re- 
ceptacle, send them to the anxious ones at home. 

In one of his letters my brother wrote that "the 
boys " (the members of his regiment) were getting 
their lives insured for their friends' benefit, and 
that he was going to get his insured for mine. 
The very thought of his not outliving the time of 
• his enlistment was unbearable to me, and I could 
not contemplate the idea of receiving money at 
the price of his death, for a moment. So I wrote 
to him to wait until he should get a furlough and 
come to see me, when we would talk the matter 
over. 

Soon after that, being afraid that something 
would happen to him, and wishing to make sure 
that I would have any money that might be com- 
ing to him at such time, he made a will for my 
benefit, having some of his comrades sign it as 



162 THE LIFE STORY OF 

witnesses, and sent it to me. As I have not been 
able to recover any of the papers taken from my 
house after I was arrested, I cannot re-produce the 
will here, but will say that it was made near the 
Weldon railroad, Virginia, where my brother's 
regiment, Twelfth United States Infantry, was 
camping. 

As an instance of the peculiar zeal that was 
shown in the efforts to convict me, I will mention 
that the prosecuting attorney claimed in his plea 
that he could prove that will a forgery. 

At the time, there was a soldier in Cleveland 
who had the manhood to brave the tide of popu- 
lar prejudice and say, "They can't prove that, for 
I was there and saw it written." 

Possibly that was the reason that the matter 
was dropped in the trial. It was, however; yet 
the newspapers did not let it die, but renewed the 
accusation from time to time till a short time 
before my pardon. 

After a while my brother's regiment was sent to 
Elmira, New York, as a guard over the rebel pris- 
oners there, and my brother got a furlough and 
came to see me. Our joy on seeing each other, 
after so many years of separation, need not be 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 163 

described. I could hardly believe that the black- 
haired man dressed in soldier clothes was the 
almost white-headed little boy I had cried over 
when parting with so long before. 

I felt proud of my soldier brother, and thought 
of the future as a time in which, free from the 
army, he could always be near me. We talked of 
the past, and he told me of his trials after I went 
west and all his life afterwards. 

When speaking of the future, he said, "I've got 
my mind set on that insurance, sister, and I am 
determined to get it done." 

I tried to persuade him out of the idea, telling 
him he must not think of dying, but of taking care 
of himself so as to come back to me. He then 
told me that there was talk of his regiment being 
sent to the Mexican border, and that he might die 
there as our brother had. 

"Why, what will the boys think of me, after all 
I have said," he would say, "if I go back and tell 
them I didn't get it done?" 

He wanted the sum to be twenty-five thousand 
dollars, but I told him I would never consent to 
his paying his money for a policy for such an 
amount. At last I told him I would accept a 



164 THE LIFE STORY OF 

policy for two thousand dollars, but no more. He 
finally agreed to that, and as he was a stranger in 
Cleveland, I "went with him to Dr. Beck with for 
examination. 

He talked with the doctor about how long we 
had been separated, how I had tried to care for 
him when he was a little boy, and told him that he 
wanted me to receive the benefit of the insurance 
if he died. After passing examination, he ordered 
a policy in one of Mr. Carlton's companies and 
soon after returned to his regiment, Mr. Carlton 
making out the policy and bringing it to me. 

After my brother returned to Elmira, his regi- 
ment was ordered to Richmond, Virginia, and in 
a short time the war closed and he was honorably 
discharged, coming from there home to my house. 
When he came, he brought his gun, trunk and 
clothes, which were all of his possessions— he did 
not have a dollar. 

I did not know that he was without money 
until, a day or two after he came, noticing that 
his boots needed repairing and that he ought to 
go to a barber, I said to him: " Billy, you had 
better take those boots and have them half-soled. 
I see they are good yet except where you have 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 165 

worn them by marching," and adding that he had 
better stop at a barber's and get shaved. 

He looked troubled, and at last said, "Sister, I 
might as well tell you the truth. I haven't got a 
cent in the world." 

He then told me that he had had all his money 
stolen the night before he left Richmond, and had 
been obliged to pawn his watch for a ticket to 
come with. He also said that he had thought he 
would get something to do in a few days, and not 
have to tell me, as he was ashamed to come in 
that way. 

I told him that he need not have been afraid to 
tell me, and that I would send for his watch at 
once. I then gave him what change he needed, and 
went immediately to the express office and sent the 
money for his watch. 

When the watch came and I gave it to my 
brother, he cried, poor boy, and said, "God bless 
you, sister; you was always my best friend." 

He was so unused to kindness, that he appreci- 
ated everything done for him, which made the 
doing of favors a pleasure to me. 

When he spoke of getting work, I told him that 
he need not do so. He had never had anv advan- 



166 THE LIFE STORY OF 

tages, and I wanted him to study and improve 
himself, for a time, at least. So I got him such 
books as he needed and looked after his comfort in 
every way. In the spring after his return, a Mr. 
Fenner, who kept a hotel at Euclid, wanted him 
to assist a few days, until he could get another 
man. Although I knew that living at my house 
must be dull to my brother after having been in 
the army, I objected to his going where liquor was 
sold, as it was at Mr. Fenner's, for I did 
not know what habits he might have formed. 

He seemed to divine my thoughts, and said, 
" You needn't be afraid of my drinking, for I don't 
drink ; and he only wants me for a few days." 

He then went to work for Mr. Fenner, and the 
few days ran into weeks. Mr. and Mrs. Fenner 
told me that they had never had anyone whom 
they liked so well, and that they would like to have 
him remain a year. I was glad he had given such 
satisfaction, and no longer objected to his remain- 
ing with them. 

A month or two after he made the final engage- 
ment, Mr. Fenner came to me one day and said 
that " Billy," as we usually called my brother, had 
fallen across a hav-rack in the barn and hurt him- 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 167 

self. He said that he hardly thought the injury 
was serious, and as I was quite ill that day, 
I did not go to see him at the time, but went a day 
or two afterwards, taking Dr. Sapp, the physician 
I had for myself, with me to make sure of what 
the extent of the injury was. 

Some little time before his fall, my brother had, 
without my knowledge or consent, gone to Mr. 
Carlton and taken out an accident policy, which 
Mr. Carlton brought to me, and of which I had 
no knowledge before receiving. 

There was nothing very remarkable about his 
having taken out the policy, as accident insurance 
was then a comparatively new thing to many, 
and as my brother had not been in the habit of 
caring for horses, he thought he might get hurt, 
and if he should die, he wanted me to be the one 
benefited. 

But, as a consequence of his having taken out 
the policy, I felt under added obligation to see 
that no harm came to him from neglect on my 
part, and so took a physician, in whom I had 
faith, to see him. After examining him, Dr. Sapp 
made some slight prescription, and I told him to 
send anything further that might be needed. My 



168 THE LIFE STORY OF 

brother was troubled because I had been to the 
expense of a physician, and asked me what he 
would charge for coming. 

I answered, "Not more than eight or ten dollars, 
.although some would charge twenty-five." 

"If that is so, and I don't get over this," said 
he, "you pay him twenty-fiye out of the insur- 
ance money." 

I told him he was not going to die, but that I 
would see that the doctor was paid. As I haye 
said before, he was so kind-hearted and afraid of 
making trouble, that it was a p^asure to do for 
him. On the way home, I told Dr. Sapp of what 
William had said, and remarked on the general 
kindliness of his nature. 

Possibly it may occur to the mind of the un- 
prejudiced reader that the foregoing would have 
been a favorable opportunity to make away with 
my brother, had I been the fiend I have been 
pictured to the public for so many years. I could 
easily have worked on my brother's despondent 
feelings and got him to go home with me, where 
I could have given him poison with the cold- 
blooded craftiness of the demon I have been said 
to be. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 169 

The facts were, however, that I was thankful 
the hurt was no worse, willingly paid the physi- 
cian ten dollars for relieving my mind of fear, and 
left my brother where he was, knowing he was 
among friends. 






170 THE LIFE STORY OF 



CHAPTER XII. 

A Young Lady Dies— Loaning Some Money— A Newspaper's 
Work — A Genuine Artist — Same Fiendish Woman — A 
Warning— A Matron's Work— What Can Be Believed 
—Dr. Dellenbaugh's Statement— All Supposition— No 
Grounds for Suspicion — Conclusive Evidence — The 
"Mills of the Gods" — Wedding Clothes— Will She 
Come Back— Not Safe Alone— Arsenic as a Tonic. 

WHILE living at Mr. Fenner's my brother 
became attached to a daughter of the 
family, named Ann. There were two daughters 
living at home, one named as above and the other 
always called "Mi," but whose real name I never 
knew. I had but a slight acquaintance with either 
daughter, but with the latter almost none, never 
having seen her but once or twice — I think, only 
once. One day, Mr. Fenner came to my house and 
told me that his daughter "Mi" was dead, and 
that as he found that he had not money enough 
with him to pay for the hearse and burial case, 
for which he had come to the city, he had thought 
of me as being the only one he would like to ask 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 171 

to loan him the balance. He explained the mat- 
ter by saying that the undertaker would not go 
into the country without having his pay in ad- 
vance. 

I readily loaned him the money, fifteen dollars, 
and asked him if his daughter's death had not 
been sudden, as I had not heard that she was 
sick. 

He said that she had been ailing with what the 
physician pronounced diabetes, but that they 
had not thought her in danger until two days 
preceding her death. 

That was all I ever knew in regard to Miss 
Fenner's sickness and death ; yet, after I had been 
in prison many } r ears, when efforts were being 
made for my pardon by Governor Foster, there 
appeared in the Cleveland Herald, then one of the 
oldest newspapers in Cleveland, but since bought 
out by the Cleveland Leader, the following article: 

ANOTHER PAGE FROM THE LIFE OF MRS. VICTOR. 

A few days ago we gave a careful review of the case of Mrs. 
Sarah M. Victor, and the circumstances surrounding the crime 
for which she was sentenced to be hung. To-day we turn over 
a second leaf in her history which makes another romance in 
crime, and leads to the belief that in the business of poisoning 



172 THE LIFE STORY OF 

Mrs. Victor was a genuine artist and thoroughly understood 
her profession. 

In October, 1866, William Parquet was living at Euclid and 
"keeping company" with Miss Fenner, the daughter of old 
Mr. Fenner, so well remembered as the keeper of the tavern at 
that place. Miss Fenner was a bright, intelligent, attractive 
.girl, and after the usual courtship she and William Parquet 
became engaged to be married. Mr. and Mrs. Fenner thought 
the girl could make a better match than to marry Parquet, 
who was living in the neighborhood as a "hired man," and 
they opposed the wishes of their daughter and refused their 
consent to the marriage. But the young girl was infatuated 
with Parquet, laughed at her parents and stood bravely and 
stoutly by her lover. She announced her engagement and 
'poke freely of her coming marriage. At this time Miss Fen- 
ner had a trouble with the kidneys, and Dr. Dellenbaugh, a 
well-known and prominent physician living at East Cleveland, 
was called upon to treat her. He attended her, and under 
his care and skillful management she was doing finely, and 
no thought of her illness being fatal affected the minds of any- 
one. 

At this time Mrs. Victor heard of the engagement, and with 
sisterly interest went out to visit Miss Fenner, the betrothed 
oride of her brother, and took up her abode in the Fenner 
tavern. She was greatly interested in the young girl so soon 
to be the wife of her dear brother William, and treated her 
with every appearance of affectionate interest. Soon after 
her arrival Miss Fenner grew strangely worse, and Dr. Del- 
lenbaugh was sent for. On his arrival he found the young 
lady suffering greatly, and Mrs. Victor devoted to her service 
and waiting upon her with assiduous and self-sacrificing de- 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 173 

votion. Dr. Dellenbaugh was utterly unable to account for 
the sudden and extraordinary change in the character of Miss 
Fenner's illness. It could not be explained upon any theor_\ 
consistent with her previous s3 r mptoms. His suspicions were 
excited that all was not right, but it was difficult to imagine 
an\ 7 motive for wrong-doing or the possibilit}" of any accident. 
Mr. and Mrs. Fenner were devoted to their daughter, lavish- 
ing upon her all the wealth of their love, and watching over 
her with genuine parental solicitude. Mrs. Victor was as- 
siduous and kindh', apparently the most considerate and true- 
hearted of nurses. There was no earthly motive that could be 
surmised why the death of this girl could be made to benefit 
anybod}-. Her parents were old and simple-minded people, 
the girl herself confiding and affectionate in character, without 
an enemy in the world, her lover a poor laboring man, a 
private soldier returned from the wars. There was no spot 
for suspicion to fasten upon; no elements out of which the 
sharpest imagination could weave a story of jealousy, envy, 
avai-ice, poison and murder. Hence Dr. Dellenbaugh failed to 
see aii3' real ground for suspecting foul play, and endeavored 
to soothe and relieve his patient in what appeared to him to 
be the best way. Notwithstanding all his efforts, in two days 
the young, blooming, happy and light-hearted girl was dead. 
Her stricken parents followed her to the grave, and Parquet 
soon after returned to Cleveland, took up his abode with Mrs. 
Victor, and in less than four months was himself laid to rest in 
the cemetery. After Mrs. Victor's arrest for killing her brother, 
Dr. Dellenbaugh informed old Mr. Fenner that in his belief 
Miss Fenner died from the effects of strychnine administered to 
her by Mrs. Victor, while the latter was professing to nurse 
her with sisterly tenderness. Dr. Dellenbaugh is a physician 



174 THE LIFE STORY OF 

still practicing in Cleveland, and he says there is no reasonable 
doubt that Mrs. Victor, fearing the marriage of Parquet would 
effectually place him out of her power, deliberately, and with 
the most wonderful cunning and duplicity, visited his intended 
wife, obtained her confidence and that of her parents, in- 
stalled herself in their house, and then quietly but surely pur- 
sued her deadly work. 

Parquet, the young soldier, and his youthful sweetheart 
were murdered within four months of each other, and by the 
same fiendish woman. They were both guileless and unsuspect- 
ing. Both kissed the hand that was leading them into the 
valley of the shadow of death ; both hung on her words with 
generous confidence and abiding affection. Over both she shed 
the hypocritical tear, and both she followed to the grave 
as a weeping mourner and broken-hearted friend . Mrs. Victor 
still lives — lives to use her cunning and talent to ensnare the 
virtuous, the good, the unsuspecting, the benevolent and the 
humane. The mercy held out to her was a crime against 
humanity. Her bones should long since have mouldered in the 
dust. Over her grave " Murderess " should have been carved in 
staring capitals. Society has placed her in a living grave, but 
has not silenced her deadly, poisonous influence. We warn all 
men and women who are inclined to listen to the song of the 
siren. The " ways of this woman are the ways of death, and 
her steps take hold on hell." 

At the time the foregoing article appeared, Mrs. 
L. Y. DeSellem, who was principal matron of the 
female department of the Ohio Penitentiary at the 
time I was received therein, but who had since 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 175 

retired to private life, was working for my pardon, 
and seeing the article, came to me. I told her the 
facts, as I always did in everything. Her course 
can best be told in the following words, which are 
copied from a letter received from her and dated at 
her home in Port Homer, Jefferson county, Ohio r 
July 27, 1887 : 

After you told me where the girl's people lived, I wrote to 
the postmaster, asking if the family still lived there. I received 
in answer a postal-card saying that the father and, I think, 
the mother were dead, but giving me the address of a married 
sister of the girl. I wrote to the sister, and she answered, say- 
ing you were not at their house and did not see, or do anything 
for her sister. She also said your brother was not engaged to 
her. I then went to the State library and found the paper that 
had that piece in. I told the librarian that I wanted Governor 
Foster to read that piece, and asked him if he would allow the 
book to be taken to the governor's office. He very kindly took 
it there for me. After the governor read the article, I gave him 
the postal-card and the sister's letter. When he had read 
them, I said: "When such falsehoods as that can be told, 
what can be believed ?" 

Yet, I was not pardoned by Governor Foster, 
and not wishing to overtax free workers, nor 
being able to pay others, I could do nothing. But 
when I was at last free I determined that if my life 
was spared long enough, I would find the origi- 



176 THE LIFE STORY OF 

nators of that and many other similar articles. 
Through the lady who writes this book for me, I 
found Dr. Dellenbaugh. He frankly admitted that 
he had furnished some of the information from 
which the article was written, but that for some 
years past he had had misgivings about the accu- 
racy of the statement then made. He speaks for 
himself as follows : 

COPY OF THE STATEMENT OF DR. C. W. DEL- 
LENBAUGH. 

Cleveland, 0-, 8, 10, '87. 

While I was attending Miss Fenner, I several times saw a 
lady at the house who seemed to take interest in the young 
lady's case ; she may have been a relative or neighbor. I was 
not acquainted with her, however, and at the time had never 
seen Mrs. Victor. But, when Mrs. Victor was under arrest for 
murder, I was at the court-house one day, and seeing Mr. 
Fenner, spoke of his daughter's illness and in the conversation 
asked who the lady was — meaning the one who had been at 
his house. He answered, according to my recollection, "Mrs. 
Victor;" but the conversation was of such a nature, and my 
mind was so much on the subject of Mrs. Victor's guilt, that I 
may have misunderstood him, or if I understood him, he r 
doubtless, meant that the woman on trial was Mrs. Victor, 
while I meant quite a different person. 

The statements in regard to Mrs. Victor's diabolical cun- 
ning and action in the matter, as published in the Herald, are, 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 177 

as a matter of course, all supposition ; and as I never recog- 
nized Mrs. Victor as being the person who was at Mr. Fenner's, 
nor had any definite knowledge that she was there at all, there 
is no ground left for suspicion. 

I have for some years been convinced that Mrs. Victor is 
innocent of the crime of murdering her brother, and that fact 
should be conclusive evidence that I have no suspicions of her 
being guilty of Miss Fenner's death. 

(Signed) Dr. C W. Dellenbaugh, 

Cleveland, 0. 
Room 5, Andrew's Block, 136 Ontario St. 

It will be seen that the last paragraph of the 
newspaper article is written entirely upon edito- 
rial responsibility, asserts without qualification 
that I murdered my brother's "youthful sweet- 
heart," and ends by giving the public some advice,, 
and an attempt at quoting Scripture. 

Feeling that no comment on the "liberty of the 
press" is necessary, I will only say that I find 
some little consolation in the fact that the "mills 
of the gods " are still grinding, and whether it be 
before or after my life here is over, all the minutest 
grains of injustice in my case must go through the 
refining process at last. 

My brother's affection for Ann Fenner, the only 
one of the family to whom he paid his attentions, 



178 THE LIFE STORY OF 

seemed to be reciprocated, and my brother told 
me they were engaged. My brother had his wed- 
ding clothes made, and was expecting to be 
married soon, when Miss Fenner and he had a 
disagreement over a small matter, the particulars 
of which he gave me, and she broke the engage- 
ment, going away on a visit soon after. 

During her absence my brother would come up 
to my house and talk of the matter. He would 
ask me, in a piteous way, "Do you think she will 
come back, sister?" and I would tell him that she 
would, of course, if she cared for him, and that if 
she did not, he did not want her. 

After a time Miss Fenner returned, but as 
matters were no better, my brother became so far 
distracted that it was not at all times safe to 
leave him alone. So Mr. Fenner came to me and 
said that "Billy" acted so strangely that both 
himself and his wife were afraid he would kill him- 
self. 

My brother then came home to me; and it would 
take many pages to describe the anxiety he caused 
me. I tried in every way to cheer him ; telling him 
to "be a man," and not let people know he had 
been jilted. Twice he attempted to hang himself, 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 179 

and several times when I was returning after going 
down town, my little nephew Wesley came to meet 
me saying, "Hurry, aunty; uncle Billy is going to 
kill himself." 

I said nothing of these occurrences at the time 
outside of the family, but my brother told several 
of his friends that he would take his own life if 
Miss Fenner's decision proved final ; and all could 
have been proven at my trial had I been given any- 
thing that should be dignified by the name of trial. 
Several witnesses attempted to so testify, and 
were peremptorily stopped by the rulings of the 
court. 

Seeing the trouble that his actions gave me, my 
brother controlled himself to some extent, but 
grieved constantly and was at all times very 
despondent, seeming to have no desire to live, and 
often asserting that he would not live long. His 
health rapidly declined from the time the engage- 
ment was broken, and nothing seemed to do him 
any good. 

He had complained of trouble in his stomach and 
right side, that being the side on which he had 
fallen across the hay-rack, at different times^since 
receiving the hurt at Mr. Fenner's, and had taken 



180 



THE LIFE STORY OF 



several kinds of medicine for relief. The unpleasant 
feeling would leave him at times, but after he came 
home to me, he complained of the same trouble 
almost constantly. The symptoms were pain in 
the region of the liver, and nausea, with a burning 
sensation in the stomach. 

While yet at Mr. Fenner's, my brother was 
advised by a neighbor of ours, a Mr. Newel, to 
take arsenic as a tonic. Mr. Newel, who was a 
hackman and had the care of horses, told William 
that he gave arsenic to his horses to improve their 
general condition, and that it would have the 
same effect on a human being, advising him to 
take it. 

I know, both by his having told me and by sub- 
sequent conversations between Mr. Newel and 
him, that my brother got arsenic from Mr. Newel 
and took it more or less ; but as to what extent 
he took it, or how long he continued it, I can make 
no positive statement. I only know that his 
taking it at all was without my approval, and 
that I had no faith in the man who advised it. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 181 



CHAPTER XIII. 

About Mr. Newel— Startling Tales— Becoming Disgusted 
— Mrs.Sigsby— Mrs. Baker's Confession— Saw the Mur- 
der — A Certain Powder — Slipped on the Door-step — 
Ate Some Pie— Taken III— Died— Very Despondent- 
Requests While III — A Class of Students — Anonymous 
Letters — By Whom Written— In Whose Interests — A 
Request— Seeming Craftiness. 

MR. NEWEL was a person with whom I 
became unfavorably impressed on first see- 
ing him, and, although he lived just across the 
street from me, I never encouraged any acquaint- 
ance with him. But he had been acquainted with 
my sister from her childhood, and when my 
brother came home from the war, had made his 
acquaintance, also. His earlier acquaintance with 
my sister was marked by an occurrence not calcu- 
lated to inspire respect, and which was as follows: 
One day when my sister, then ten or twelve 
years old, was living with a family in Cleveland, 
she, in company with another young girl, who 
afterwards married a man of high position and, 



182 THE LIFE STORY OF 

as it happens, yet lives in Cleveland, were walking 
along the street together, talking and laughing as 
girls often do, when the man Newel, who was 
passing in the street, seeing them laughing, asked 
them if they would take a ride in his hack. They 
thought it great fun, and got in, when he took 
them to a house of ill-repute on or near Bolivar 
street and left them. Whatever the character of 
the woman keeping the house may have been, she 
seemed to realize the depravity of the act, and sent 
the girls home with the advice to keep out of bad 
company. 

When my sister came to my house Mr. Newel 
recognized her, and spoke of the old matter as a 
good joke. Not wishing to anger him, I tolerated 
his presence when he would occasionally come into 
my house to see my brother, but, while he was 
always respectful to me, I could not overcome the 
feeling of repugnance that had come to me on 
first seeing him, and there was always a sense of 
restraint between us. 

His ways were very disagreeable. He had an 
unpleasantly familiar fashion of coming into my 
house without ringing the door-bell, and going 
into any room to find my brother, without so much 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 183 

as an excuse for so doing. Then, he would sit 
down of an evening and relate startling tales of 
robberies and murders, to which I did not want 
my brothei to listen. 

One evening he came in, and soon growing talk- 
ative began telling about a particular gang of 
outlaws that had committed many murders. 

I was sitting by the table sewing or knitting, 
and becoming disgusted with the talk, I looked 
up and said, "I suppose it was one of some such 
gang who murdered poor Mrs. Sigsby, and some 
day I'll put my hands on him." 

It will be remembered by some of the older 
residents that a Mrs. Sigsby was murdered in 
Cleveland many years ago, and that, although 
several were arrested for the crime, none were 
convicted. 

After making the remark, I turned to my work, 
when my brother asked Mr. Newel if he was sick, 
and got up and helped him to the door. 

Mr. Newel said, no — that he "often felt so," and 
started for home. 

After he had gone, my brother and I talked the 
matter over, and my brother said that maybe 



184 THE LIFE STORY OF 

Newel had seen the woman who was murdered, 
and my speaking of it made him faint. 

I remember of answering that " a man who had 
dug up bodies for the doctors " would not be likely 
to be so easily affected. There was at that time 
much said about the raising of bodies after burial, 
and I had heard that Mr. Newel had bragged that 
he had done such things while living in Buffalo, 
New York. 

I will now explain why I made the remark that 
I did in regard to Mrs. Sigsby's murderer. 

Some years before I ever saw Mr. Newel, whom 
I had known personally only eight or ten months 
at the time of which I write, the woman who had 
come to my house as a boarder through arrange- 
ments made with my husband, sent me word 
that she was very sick and wanted to see 
me. I went to see her, and she told me that 
she knew she could not live, and she wanted to 
ask my forgiveness for deceiving me. After tell- 
ing how she had made the arrangements with 
my husband, and I had assured her that I freely 
forgave her, she told me that there were other 
things on her mind that she ought to tell. She 
then said that she had seen Mrs. Sigsby murdered. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 185 

I had heard of Mrs. Sigsby's murder at the time 
it occurred, and that several persons had been 
arrested, but nobody held. She told .me that a 
man who drove a hack, and whose name she gave 
but whom I did not know, had taken Mrs. Sigsby, 
herself and another woman, whose name I can- 
not recall, to a theatre or some place of amuse- 
ment, and that after he took them home, she, 
being jealous of the man's attentions to Mrs. 
Sigsby, had watched him to convince herself 
whether he did not return to Mrs. Sigsby's house 
instead of going home. She said that the house 
she lived in was near that of Mrs. Sigsby, and 
that she saw the man drive away and in a short 
time come back on foot. She then went out and 
across to Mrs. Sigsby's house and tried to look 
through the keyhole in the door. Not being able 
to see anything there, in looking at a window- 
near, she saw a small hole in the curtain, and 
peeping in, saw the man standing before Mrs. 
Sigsby, who was in the act of pulling a hand- 
kerchief or something the man had put over his 
face, off. She said the man then spoke to Mrs. 
Sigsby and seemed determined to kill her. The 
woman then turned from the window, not know 



186 THE LIFE STORY OF 

ing what to do, as she said, but in a moment 
looked again, and seeing Mrs. Sigsby apparently 
dead, hurried away before the man could come 
out and see her. 

She told me that the man ran away to Canada 
and had never been heard from since. When I 
asked her why she had told nobody of the mat- 
ter at the time, she said that she did not dare to 
do so, as she had herself been arrested on suspicion 
of being connected with it; that she had been 
jealous of the woman and would have had to tell 
it, and that nobody would have believed her. She 
told, further, something about a handkerchief that 
was in Mrs. Sigsby's house, and with which she 
herself was connected in some way, and finally 
said that where a person had "looked through 
glass" to see what transpired in evidence, such 
testimony would not " stand law." 

That is the substance of the story the woman 
told me, and it would have been given to the 
public twenty years ago, or near that, if my 
attorney had not, for some purpose, kept it back. 
The woman's name was Baker. I do not know 
positively that she is dead ; but if living, she can 
but corroborate this story. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 187 

I was shocked and troubled by the woman's 
story, and did not know what I ought to do. But 
the feeling most prominent with me was a desire 
to get out of the woman's presence and surround- 
ings and put the whole matter out of my mind. 
I had sufficient trouble of my own without under- 
taking a task so uncertain in its results, and that 
seemed to me so highly hazardous, considering the 
source of the information. 

The tales of Mr. Newel brought the woman's 
story to my mind and caused me to make the re- 
mark. I had no idea of who the guilty man was, 
as I had lost all memory of the name. 

After that occurrence, I told my brother to keep 
out of Mr. Newel's society. I could not have 
given any definite reason for doing so, had I been 
asked to explain why I did it, but I thought that 
Mr. Newel must either have been very angry at my 
interruption of his story, or that he was guilty of 
some crime. 

My brother did as I requested as far as he could, 
but after he came home from Mr. Fenner's, he said 
to me one day that Mr. Newel had been telling him 
that by taking a certain powder, a person could 
test the love of the one whose affections had be- 



188 THE LIFE STORY OF 

come estranged. I was out of patience with my 
brother for having talked with Mr. Newel about 
his disappointment and thus subjected himself to 
ridicule, and I told him that what Mr. Newel said 
was not worth repeating. Love charms and all 
such sorcery were always an abomination to me, 
and I told my brother that he ought not to listen 
to "such nonsense;" that all any powder could 
do would be to make a person sick, when, prob- 
ably, the person's friends would come to see him. 
My brother said he supposed that was "about the 
way of it," or something to that effect, and never 
mentioned the matter again. 

After my brother had been with me a few weeks, 
on one Saturday night, the twenty-sixth of Jan- 
uary, I think it was, he came home after taking 
my sister a part of the way to the house of some 
acquaintances where she was to spend the night, 
and told me that he had slipped on the door-step 
and hurt his side. I made him some ginger tea, 
and as soon as I got him to bed, put a mustard 
plaster on his side. g 

He was able to be about, the next day, but was 
far from well. He told me he had invited a man 
named Hunt to take tea with him, and must be 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 189 

up to receive him. Sometime afternoon Mr. Hunt 
came, and soon nry brother began talking with 
him about the trouble between Miss Fenner and 
himself, which was constantly on his mind. 

The next morning he did not feel as w r ell as on 
Sunday, and did not leave the house during the 
day. Just before retiring he said he believed he 
could eat a piece of pie — he had eaten little of any- 
thing for two days — and went to the cupboard and 
got a piece. It was mince pie, and I told him he 
had better not eat it, as it probably had frost in 
it. He said that he had eaten anything when in 
the army, and as there was no time for warming 
the pie at that hour, he ate it as it was. 

Some time after midnight, my little nephew, 
who had slept with my brother from the time of 
his return from Mr. Fenner's, so as to warn me if 
his uncle attempted any harm to himself, came to 
my room and said, "Uncle Billy is real sick." 

I got up at once, and, after going into the room 
where my brother was and finding him in a good 
deal of pain, had a fire built in my own room and 
took him in there, as will be seen in my answers 
to the extracts from the testimony in my trial. 

From the night on which he was taken seriously 



190 THE LIFE STORY OF 

ill, he continued to grow worse, and on the Monday 
morning following, he died. During his illness I 
was almost constantly with him through the day, 
and also at night, unless I felt sure that the ones 
who sat up with him were efficient and reliable. 

Almost from the first, he said he would not get 
well, and his despondency gave me less hope for 
him. Indeed his assertion that he would die made 
me very despondent, also ; for the experience I had 
liad in the death of my little boy had made me 
sensitive to such predictions. Some time in the 
latter part of the week, he told me what his wishes 
were in case he did not recover, and requested that 
I be sure and remember them. I assured him that 
I would omit nothing, and, sitting down on the 
bed beside him, wrote down some special things so 
that his mind would be at ease. Among his 
requests was one that the doctors should not get 
his body. He wanted me to promise that I would 
see to it that they did not. He had always had a 
horror of such things from the time he lived at Dr. 
Ackley's and was frightened by the students. 

After my brother died, Dr. Sapp, who attended 
him, requested me to allow him to bring a class of 
students to my house and make an examination of 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 191 

his bod}-. As might be expected, after my promise, 
I firmly refused to do so. But, as Dr. Sapp seemed 
puzzled as to what had caused death when he had 
seen no danger, and as my brother had died so sud- 
denly, I at last thought that if Drs. Sapp and 
Beckwith, both of whom had attended him at dif- 
ferent times, would make it, I would allow the 
examination to be made there in my house, and 
have my mind free both of the uncertainty of 
what had caused death and of his being taken up 
after burial. 

But Dr. Sapp did not agree to that proposition, 
and so my brother's body was not examined. For 
nearly twenty years I have regretted that it was 
not examined then, before it had mouldered in the 
grave a whole year. (For particulars immediately 
following my brother's death, see answer to Libbie 
Gray's testimony.) 

In the latter part of the same year in which my 
brother died, I began to receive anonymous letters 
saying that if I did not do what was right by 
" certain parties," I would be arrested and some 
dreadful developments follow. I compared the 
handwriting of the letters with that of one known 
to have been written bv Mr. Newel, and found it 



192 THE LIFE STORY OF 

the same. My sister, Mrs. Gray, had taken up 
her residence at Mr. Newel's, and I supposed the 
letters written in her interests. I found later, 
however, that they were, beyond any doubt in my 
own mind, written in my sister's interest as she 
understood the matter, but in Mr. Newel's own, 
as he calculated. 

At first I thought little of the threats, knowing 
there was nothing of which I was guilty ; and as 
there was no mention made of what the develop- 
ments were to be, I thought the matter but an 
attempt to levy blackmail by frightening me. But 
before long I heard a rumor that my brother had 
been poisoned by eating a piece of pie. 

Strange thoughts and suspicions came into my 
mind, and I began to fear that my sister, with 
such unscrupulous counselors, would get herself 
more than me into trouble that she little realized. 
Having heard that she had been to Dr. Sapp, and 
being unable to get any interview with her myself, 
I went to the doctor and requested him to explain 
to her the trouble she might bring about by the 
course she was taking. 

Dr. Sapp did not seem inclined to do as I re- 
quested, which was not remarkable; as it was a 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 193 

state of affairs that ought not to have existed, 
and a matter in which few not interested would 
have cared to mingle. Yet, not knowing what 
else to do, and as Dr. Sapp had been my brother's 
physician from the time he was taken sick, as well 
as while at Mr. Fenner's, I wrote him a letter 
afterwards, making the same request. 

All that matter was brought up at my trial as 
the most damning of evidence against me; and, 
together with the rest, it condemned me to death, 
which I escaped only to suffer nearly nineteen 
years in prison. Yet, I did not murder my brother, 
and there was really no guilt in all that seeming 
(to some) craftiness. 

After having been to Dr. Sapp, I concluded to 
have a committee appointed to decide what, in 
equity, I should do for my sister, who claimed 
that my brother's life had been insured for her 
benefit as well as mine, and as I had heard that 
Prosecuting Attorney Jones had already heard of 
the matter, I went to him and talked with him 
about it. 



194 THE LIFE STORY OF 



CHAPTER XIV. 

My Arrest — The Inquest — First Night in Jail — Friendly 
Mice — Morning— Personal Property — Mr. Castle- 
Engaging an Attorney— Do As I Tell You— Torturing 
Doubts — Know Him ? I Guess I Do — Mr. Palmer- 
Strength Fails— Dr. D. H. Beckwith — Thanks— An 
Explanation— Strange Counsel— Too Weak to Walk— 
The Indictment — Was Amazed— Faint and Confused. 

ON the fifth day of February, 1868, 1 was in 
my sitting-room talking with a lady of the 
church to which I belonged, when Mr. Nicola, 
sheriff of Cuyahoga county, drove up to my gate. 
I went to the door when he rang the bell, and told 
him to be seated in the parlor, then excusing my- 
self until I should be through with the lady. She 
was about going, and soon went away. I then 
went to see what Mr. Nicola's business was. He 
told me that he had come to see me about going 
down to seethe prosecuting attorney regarding the 
business I had talked about. I told him that I 
would go the next day, as I did not feel able to 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 195 

walk down that day ; being at the time in miser- 
able health. He said I could ride down with him, 
and I gladly accepted the offer, telling him that I 
wanted the matter settled. 

He took me down to the court-house, saying 
that Mr. Jones was there. I thought of nothing 
unusual, and went into the room the sheriff did 
and sat down. In a moment, Mr. Nicola went 
out, and after some little time, came back, asked 
me to come out and told me that the body of my 
brother had been taken up, and that I was to ap- 
pear before the coroner's jury, then reading the 
warrant charging me with my brother's death. 

None but an innocent person who has been 
arrested for murder can understand what my feel- 
ings were at that moment. Yet, the full horror of 
the situation did not come upon me at once. I 
was astonished and shocked beyond any descrip- 
tion that I can give, but being conscious of my 
entire innocence, and having a then untried faith 
in the dignity of the law, I had no fear of anything 
further than the stigma of having been arrested 
on so grave a charge. But that, together with 
the facts that I was accused of murdering one for 
whom I would have made almost anv sacrifice, and 



196 THE LIFE STORY OF 

my brother's body had been dragged from the 
grave, where I had placed it with all tenderness 
and sorrow, was awful beyond expression. 

I have never had, up to the present time, any 
distinct recollection of what occurred, or what I 
testified to before that coroner's jury. I remember 
of being taken to be locked up, and the incidents 
of that first night in jail are as plain before my 
mental sight as at the time of their occurrence. 

When the sheriff unlocked the cell in which I was 
to stay, a half-intoxicated girl came towards the 
door, and Mr. Nicola told me not to be afraid, as 
she was harmless. I remember that the sheriff 
left me a candle, and that the girl told me that 
such things were not customary. 

After a time the girl threw herself on one of the 
cots and was soon sound asleep. I did not take 
off my wraps the whole night, thinking someone 
would come to release me. I knew nothing of the 
rigidness of the law in regard to acceptance of 
bail in such cases, and thought Mr. Carlton or 
some of the many people who must know I was 
innocent, would come to my assistance and not let 
me remain in such a place. 

The cell swarmed with mice, and as the night 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 197 

wore on and quiet came, the little things would 
run over my lap, through my muff and even up on 
my shoulders. I was usually afraid of mice, but 
those seemed so void of fear, and I was so stunned 
and miserable that their presence was really a relief. 

The room became very cold some time after the 
girl went to sleep, and I remember of going and 
putting the covers over her and thinking that per- 
haps she was some poor creature who was not 
responsible for her condition. 

When morning at last came, breakfast was 
brought up for the girl and myself, but I could not 
eat any of the jail fare, and so had a breakfast sent 
from a neighboring restaurant. 

In the forenoon, the rectors of Trinity church 
came, with their wives, to see me; having been 
told the night before, as they said, of my trouble, 
by Mr. Carlton. There seemed little that could be 
done at the time, as the alleged offense was not a 
bailable one, but things were made as comfortable 
for me as possible. The sheriff took me to my 
house to get such clothing as I needed, and that 
was the last time I ever saw any of my tDersonal 
property; the rabble, legal and otherwise, being 
allowed to plunder my home of everything. 



198 THE LIFE STORY OF 

Soon remarks began to be circulated in the jail, 
to the effect that "Old Carlton," to give the ex- 
pression literally, ought to be there instead of me, 
or with me. Knowing that Mr. Carlton was as 
guiltless of any knowledge of the matter for which 
I was arrested as I was, which guiltlessness, let me 
here say, was absolute in both cases, and feeling 
that to have him call on me would only give rise 
to further comment, I sent him word that he need 
not come. Remembering how he had opposed my 
sending for my sister to come to Cleveland, in the 
first place, and thinking that he must have already 
been much humiliated by the trouble she had 
gotten me into, I could not bear the thought of 
his being subjected to suspicion besides. Yet I 
had no thought that he would take any advan- 
tage that the opportunity might give him, and 
desert me. 

The second day after my arrest, a lawyer by the 
name of Castle called on me and asked if I had 
engaged counsel. I told him that I had not and 
did not know that I needed any. He said it 
would be necessary for me to have an attorney, 
and that he would like to take my case. I did not 
know what I had better do, but thinking that per- 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 199 

haps Mr. Carlton had sent the man, I told him I 
would engage him. 

He then said, "I believe you have property, Mrs. 
Victor, and we attorneys have what is called a 
retainer. Could you give me a hundred dollars ?" 
and added, "If it isn't used we return it." 

I knew almost nothing of the law, and less of 
lawj^ers, and I gave him an order for a hundred 
dollars. But I very soon regretted that I had 
done so, as people told me that he was very un- 
reliable counsel. 

Shortly after I engaged Mr. Castle, he came 
into the jail one day in great haste and told me 
that the prosecuting attorney and some others 
were coming, and that I should say I waived an 
examination. I asked him what it was to 
"waive" examination. 

His answer was, "Oh, h ! Do as I tell you." 

Before anything further could be said, Mr. 
Jones and two or three others came in, and not 
knowing anything of the consequences of what I 
was doing, I followed the advice — or rather, 
obeyed the command of my attorney. I did not 
know until long afterwards that waiving an ex- 
amination was a tacit admission of guilt. I was 



200 THE LIFE STORY OF 

told while in the jail that Mr. Castle feared an 
examination would result in an acquittal and 
rob him of a case. I hoped at the time that such 
was not the case, but I now feel sure that the facts 
were much worse than that; for had I had an 
examination, other parties would have been ar- 
rested, and the truth probabty arrived at. I very 
soon lost all faith in my attorney ; and added to 
that, circumstances began to develop complica- 
tions that appalled me. 

When arsenic was alleged to have been found in 
my brother's stomach, no person could possibly 
have been more astonished than I was. How 
such a quantity — or any quantity in fact, could 
have been given to my brother t nth out my knowl- 
edge was more than I could imagine, and I knew 
beyond any doubt that I had not given him an} r , 
either purposely or through any mistake of my 
own making. Then the most dreadful suspicions 
came to me. I began to have torturing doubts 
as to whether or not my sister would or could 
have done such a deed, and then I would think 
that possibly my brother had taken his own life; 
yet I could not believe either was true. Then I 
would think of the threatening letters, and con- 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 201 

elude that the whole was a blackmailing scheme, 
gotten up by those who would not scruple to put 
arsenic in my brother's stomach before it was 
examined. 

While in the midst of such horrible doubt, I was 
one day standing at a window of the jail and a 
man who worked about the place was standing 
near. On looking across the street, I saw Mr. 
Newel coming out of a restaurant, and I turned 
to the man near me and asked him if he knew 
"that man," pointing towards Mr. Newel. 

"Know him ? I guess I do. That man was once 
in this very jail for murder; but he got off and 
ran away to Canada," was the answer. 

The story of Mrs. Baker and the fainting spell 
in my own house came to my mind in an instant, 
and for the first time I began to understand the 
awful danger I was really in. I began to see 
through the plot, so far as Mr. Newel was con- 
cerned, and could understand why he could not 
remember having driven me to Dr. Sapp's office 
while my brother was sick. (He had been to see 
me in the jail. previous to that time — see answers to 
Newel's and Dr. Sapp's testimony.) I was no 
longer in doubt as to who had filled my sister's 



202 THE LIFE STORY OF 

mind with suspicion and prompted her to the 
course she had taken. 

I told Mr. Castle of the matter, and his answer 
was, " The jury will never agree, and we'll use such 
testimony afterwards. ' ' 

The public can, perhaps, judge best what such an 
answer would mean from an attorney in a trialfor 
murder. All that I know is that everything seemed 
to be done to screen Mr. Newel, even the black- 
mailing letters he had written to me being sup- 
pressed. 

I had concluded to employ other counsel, and 
thought of engaging Judges Ranney and Coffin- 
berry, but was told that they would not act in a 
case where Mr. Castle was engaged. I spoke to 
Mr. Castle about having others, and he flatly 
refused to have either of the ones mentioned, but 
said he had a man whom he would bring. He 
afterwards brought Mr. Palmer. 

I had been in poor health when I was arrested, 
and the awful charge of murder, with the change 
from a comfortable home to quarters in a jail, lack 
of confidence in my attorney and the complica- 
tions that had arisen, proved too much for my 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 203 

strength, and I was taken down with what the 
physician pronounced typhoid fever. 

Dr. D. H. Beckwith,now practicing in Cleveland, 
attended me, and although the life he saved was 
then of doubtful tenure, I have lived to thank him 
now, twenty years after. 

My trial was postponed from the February until 
the May term of court, and during the intervening 
time, Judges Ranney and Coffinberry were sent to 
see me, by either Rev. Cooley or Starkey, of Trinity 
church. I told them of my lack of faith in my 
counsel, but as Mr. Castle already had the case, 
there seemed little for them to do further than 
to offer advice, with what I knew, from Mr. 
Castle's remarks, was a probability that it would 
not be acted upon. 

Both Judge Ranney and Judge Coffinberry said 
they would do what they could, and they were 
present at my trial, Judge Ranney two days, I 
think, and Judge Coffinberry something more; but 
with the leading attorney acting at times in 
almost direct opposition to them, small benefit 
was derived from their efforts. 

It was b\ r the foregoing complications that the 
public was led to think that Judges Ranney and 



204 THE LIFE STORY OF 

Coffinberry were my attorneys, and that if with 
such able counsel I could not be shown innocent, I 
must be guilty. Had Judges Ranney and Coffin- 
berry alone been my attorneys, I feel certain that I 
would have gone out of the court-house exonerated 
of all suspicion of crime. 

I will here say that both Judge Ranney and 
Judge Coffinberry told me to defend myself, what- 
ever the consequences might be to others. But, 
knowing that all I could truthfully say of my 
sister, who it will be seen was the one who had 
been foremost in causing my arrest, would only 
shift the popular indignation to her shoulders, and 
feeling certain that she was but the misguided 
instrument of others — Mr. Newel in the first place 
and officers of the law with others laterly — I 
dreaded to do anything unless all could be made 
clear. Yet, I told Mr. Castle what I wanted done, 
and at that time supposed there was no other 
reason for his not carrying out my wishes than the 
fact that he was almost constantly under the 
effects of liquor. 

The substance of all his reasons for not using the 
evidence at his command can be seen in the follow- 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 205 

ing, which was a remark used as often as he called 
on me: 

"Oh, h — ! there's no convicting evidence, and if 
there was, they'd never convict a woman." 

If the reader will understand that I even feared 
that Mr. Newel had managed to implicate my sister 
in regard to the arsenic I then supposed had really 
been found in my brother's body, the reason for 
my being lulled, even for a moment, by such soph- 
istry as Mr. Castle's, will be seen. 

On, I think, the eleventh day of May, I was 
arraigned for trial. I was still too weak to walk, 
and had to be carried to and from the court-room. 

The indictment charged me with having, on the 
twenty-sixth day of January, 1866, and at sundry 
times thereafter up to the fourth day of February, 
1867, given my brother ten grains of white arsenic, 
in brandy, wine, beer, lemonade, whisky, water, 
gruel and other articles of food ; also that I had 
given said arsenic with premeditation, malice, etc., 
etc., for the purpose of murdering my brother, and 
had thereby caused his death. 

I do not know what effect the reading of such a 
charge would have had on a guilty person, but I 
know that I wondered how any hand could ever 



206 THE LIFE STORY OF 

have penned such things against me, and was 
amazed that such a charge could be made before a 
court in a civilized country, without so much as a 
shred of truth upon which to make it. 

I remember of becoming very tired and faint and 
confused, and of being unable to understand much 
that was said while in the court-room the first 
day, and that the succeeding days of my trial were 
but repetitions of the first. 

To give the reader a better idea of what the 
proceedings were than I could give in any other 
way, I have made extracts from, and condensed 
portions of the testimony, aiming to embrace all 
that seemed to bear the more heavily against me, 
and followed each with an answer in explanation. 






SARAH M. VICTOR. 207 



CHAPTER XV. 

Testimony and Answers— Loren Myers— Some Confusion- 
George Ridgeway— The Coffin-plate— W. B. Stedman— 
Remains — Proctor Thayer — The Undertaker Not 
Called— Annie Miller— Pie— Arsenic for Rats— Called 
Her His Friend— About the Poison— Remarks of Coun- 
sel— J. W. Towner— A Verbatim Report— Felix Nicola 
—That Turnover— R. H. Strobridge— Jay Odell. 

IN giving these condensations and extracts, 
with their answers, to the public, I wish it to 
"be fully understood that, although my answers are 
in some instances flat contradictions to the state- 
ments made in the testimony, I do not claim that 
any person giving the testimony is guilty of willful 
misrepresenta t ion . 

It must be borne in mind that suspicion and 
prejudice ran to a height almost, if not quite 
touching delirium, at the time of my trial, and 
that under such circumstances people testifying 
might honestly err in their statements. I would 
also call attention to the fact that the oath taken 
by a person before testifying, only requires that 



208 THE LIFE STORY OF 

the person shall tell the truth according to his or 
her "best knowledge and belief." Added to the 
above is the fact that the records of testimony 
from which the extracts, etc., have been taken are 
themselves faulty and incomplete in wording in 
manv instances. 



CONDENSATIONS OF AND EXTRACTS FROM 
TRANSCRIPTS OF THE TESTIMONY AS 
REPORTED BY BENJAMIN WEAVER 
AND C. G. TINSLEY, STEN- 
OGRAPHERS. 

TESTIMONY OF LOREN MYERS FOR THE PROSECUTION. 

Loren Myers testified: That he sat up with 
William Parquet two nights — Wednesday and 
Sunday — a part of the time ; that nobody but Mrs. 
Victor and Mrs. Gray sat up with him on the 
Wednesday night ; that two men sat up with him 
on the Sunday night; that the two men sat up 
with him on the Wednesday night, and nobody 
but Mrs. Victor and Mrs. Gray on Sunday night, 
the night Parquet died; that nobody but Mrs. 
Victor and Mrs. Gray sat up with him on either or 
any night while Parquet was living; that a man 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 209 

named King sat up with him on the Sunday night ; 
that he saw Mrs. Victor give her brother one or 
more teaspoonfuls of a liquid that looked like 
water, from a tumbler on a bureau in the sick 
room; that Parquet complained of pain, vomited 
and was thirsty. 

Answer: The medicine I gave from a tumbler 
was simply Dr. Sapp's medicine, which looked like 
water, and which my brother said did not seem to 
him like medicine, and sickened him. Further 
remark on Mr. Myers' testimony for the prosecu- 
tion seems unnecessary; as it must be apparent 
that he was somewhat confused. 

Loren Myers testified for the defense: That he 
sat up with William Parquet on the night he died ; 
that no chloroform was used to his knowledge on 
that night. 

Answer: When Mr. Myers was called by the 
defense, some time had elapsed, and he had evi- 
dently collected his thoughts; for it is true that 
there was no chloroform in my house at the time, 
and certainly none used. 

TESTIMONY OF GEO. RIDGEWAY, DEPUTY SHERIFF. 

George Ridgeway testified : That he helped raise 



210 THE LIFE STORY OF 

the body of Parquet, a year after burial; that the 
features were not fully decomposed ; that the plate 
of the coffin had fallen down on the body ; that 
the name on the coffin-plate was, he thought, 
"Purzet " — was certain about the "z," but not the 

Answer : The case that my brother was buried 
in was a valuable one, and the fact that the plate 
had fallen in gave rise to suspicions in my mind 
that the remains had been tampered with after 
burial, which suspicions are not yet entirely dis- 
pelled. The mistake that occurred in my brother's 
name was made by the engraver. He produced 
the "q" as a "z," probably mistaking the letter 
as it was written. I never heard that there was 
any other mistake, and did not know anything of 
any until it was too late to rectify it. I then spoke 
to Mr. Howland, the undertaker, about it, and he 
explained how it had happened. It was one of the 
"circumstances" used against me. 

TESTIMONY OF W. B. STEDMAN, CEMETERY 
SUPERINTENDENT . 

W. B. Stedman testified: That the body was 
buried under the name of "William Parquette;" 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 211 

that there was a small box of remains on the coffin 
when disinterred . 

Answer: After I came to Cleveland to live, I 
had the remains of my first born boy, together with 
those of the babe whose birth followed his, taken 
up from the cemetery at Collamer and buried in 
Woodland cemetery, where I had bought a lot, and 
my brother was buried in the same grave. 

TESTIMONY OF PROCTER THAYER, DEMONSTRATOR 
OF ANATOMY. 

Dr. Thayer testified : That Parquet's body was 
in a fair state of preservation, for the length of 
time buried ; that he discovered no trace of disease 
in the body, except in the bladder; that the effect 
of arsenic when injected into a body was to pre- 
serve it, and that he thought the weight of 
authority in favor of the position that its effect 
was similar when taken into the stomach; that 
no two persons were affected alike by taking 
arsenic; that there were many theories; that 
chloroform would mask the symptoms of arsenical 
poisoning. 

Answer: Dr. Thayer's statement in regard to 
the preserving effects of arsenic brings to mind the 



212 THE LIFE STORY OF 

fact that I had Mr. Howland use a preparation to 
preserve my brother's remains, so as not to be 
obliged to hasten the burial, as I was told by those 
who laid him out, that I would have to. It may 
be readily seen that the undertaker should have 
been called on to testify how much arsenic he used. 
Arsenic was and is in common use for that purpose, 
as is well known. Mr. Howland was not called 
on, and under the ruling of Judge Foote, who tried 
me, I doubt if it would have been of any use to 
have called anybody further than was done. 

TESTIMONY OF ANNIE MILLER. 

Annie Miller testified: That she was past nine- 
teen years old ; that she had lived with Mrs. Victor 
"off and on" up to the time of William Parquet's 
death since she was eight; that Mrs. Victor told 
her that William had inflammation of the bowels ; 
that twodays before Mrs. Victor was arrested, she 
saw her, and Mrs. Victor asked her if she remem- 
bered what kind of pie William ate before taking 
sick; that Mrs. Victor talked of giving arsenic to 
rats long before she (the witness) ever saw Wil- 
liam Parquet; that Mrs. Victor had a cat many 
years, and long before Parquet came to her house; 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 213 

that Mrs. Victor said her brother ate some pie that 
was too cold for him, and felt sick from that time ; 
that before William was buried, Mrs. Victor said 
the doctors wanted to open him, and that she ob- 
jected — that she would allow two to open him, but 
not a number; that after his burial, Mrs. Victor 
said she would have watchers at the grave to pre- 
vent the doctors from getting him ; that Mrs. 
Victor gave her a chain two days before arrest, 
telling her to keep it, as she might need it; that 
Mrs. Victor never made her presents before; that 
Mrs. Victor objected to William's going out much, 
saying it wasn't best for young people to have so 
much company; that William always "minded" 
Mrs. Victor and called her his friend. 

Answer : At the time I talked with Annie Miller, 
just before my arrest, I told her that in claiming that 
my brother had left property that should be divided 
with my sister, Mrs. Gray, somebody had circu- 
lated a story that my brother had a valuable 
chain, and that I would get it and show it to her 
that she might see how valuable it was. I then 
showed her the chain, telling her she might have 
it, but to keep it, as I might need it ; meaning that 
I might have to produce it if my sister persisted 



214 THE LIFE STORY OF 

in claiming that my brother left valuable property. 
That was all the dark mystery there was about 
a chain. As to ever making her any presents be- 
fore, I took Annie when she was a child, and cared 
for her through many years in which everything 
given her might be considered a present. After 
she became older, however, she usually earned 
all she got, as she was a good girl ; and, indeed, 
one whose evidence I would never have attempted 
to buy with cheap jewelry. 

In regard to the arsenic for rats, Annie told the 
simple fact about it. Before my brother came home 
on a furlough, a neighbor of mine, the "Granny 
Snyder" I have already mentioned, told me that 
she was going to get arsenic for some rats that 
were running around between the houses. As 
Mrs. Snyder was very old, I was afraid she would 
put the arsenic where a pet kitten that had been 
my little boy's would get it, and so I told her that 
she had better let me get and fix it for the rats. 
She was glad to have it so, and I got it. As some 
remained after I had used all I needed, I took it 
up-stairs and put it under the edge of the carpet 
in a room that was little used, so that it would 
harm nobody. When my brother was home on 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 215 

a furlough and a day or two before he started 
to return, I was with him in the room where the 
arsenic was, and we were exchanging coins as 
keepsakes. One of the coins dropped on the floor, 
and as my brother passed his hand over the carpet 
to search for it, he felt the paper of arsenic, and 
said there was something under the carpet. 

"Oh, don't touch it," I said, then telling him 
what it was. 

"If I had known you had that," said he, "I'd 
have poisoned that dog with it." 

There had been a dog that barked at him every 
time he came in or went out ever since he had 
been at home, and he had threatened to shoot it. 
I told him he should not kill the dog, and after 
he went out, I took the arsenic and put it in the 
stove and destroyed it. 

My brother soon returned to the army, and the 
incident went out of my mind. But, when I was 
asked, after my arrest, if I had any arsenic in the 
house, I recalled the only time I had had any, and 
not remembering that I had destroyed it, told 
the sheriff to look under the carpet in the room 
mentioned. 

When Mr. Castle learned that the sheriff had 



216 THE LIFE STORY OF 

found no arsenic in my house, he and Mr. Palmer 
came to me and told me to testify that I had never 
had any. I told them that I would not, as it 
would be false. 

"Oh, h !" said Mr. Castle, and Mr. Palmer 

said, "That woman will tell the truth if she hangs 
for it." 

I advised my brother to stay in of nights, and 
not cause me the trouble that my sister did. He 
always did obey me, and never caused me trouble 
knowingly. He also called me his friend, and he 
realized that I was such, up to the last conscious 
moment of his life. 

TESTIMONY OF J. W. TOWNER. 

J. W. Towner testified : That he took short-hand 
notes of Mrs. Victor's testimony before the coro- 
ner; that he knew he had a verbatim report ; that 
he took the notes at the instance of Prosecuting 
Attorney Jones ; that he did not report what Mrs. 
Victor said about the engraving on the coffin-plate 
— that he thought it was not testimony ; that he 
could not tell how many times he made up his 
mind that things Mrs. Victor said were not testi- 
mony ; that he took the report as well as he could. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 217 

Answer : Mr. Towner's method of taking down 
the testimony may be regarded as a sample of the 
accuracy with which my whole trial was con- 
ducts 

TESTIMONY OF FELIX NICOLA, SHERIFF. 

Felix Nicola testified: That he arrested Mrs. 
Victor; that while in jail she told him she had 
arsenic under the carpet in the " middle " room up- 
stairs at her house; that he went there and found 
none; that Mrs. Victor told him that her brother 
had been in the habit of " appropriating" things 
from the shops where he went, the grocery of Mr. 
Myers in particular, which Mrs. Gray and herself 
did not approve of; that she said that on ''this 
occasion" Mrs. Gray searched his pockets and 
took out a turnover, and after scolding her 
brother, put it on a plate in the pantry ; that he 
did not think he heard all of Mrs. Victor's testi- 
mony before the coroner; that he told Mrs. Victor 
at her house on Webster street that he was the 
sheriff and had come to arrest her; that he did 
not state to her at her house that he came to 
arrest her, but, in substance, that he induced her 
to go with him by saying that Prosecuting Attor- 



218 THE LIFE STORY OF 

ney Jones wanted to see her in regard to her right 
to the money that had been paid her ; that he did 
not charge his mind with the visit at all. 

Answer : Mr. Nicola never had any conversation 
with me in regard to my brother's having been in 
the habit of "appropriating" anything, either 
from Mr. Myers' shop or anywhere else. My 
brother never stole, or " appropriated "anything in 
his life, to my knowledge; and as I was in no con- 
dition to notice all that people testified to at the 
time, the record of testimony, read by me since my 
liberation, gave me the first knowledge that any 
such accusation was ever made. The only solution 
that I can arrive at is simply that Mr. Nicola was 
mistaken in the person with whom he had the con- 
versation. 

My sister, Mrs. Gray, was very friendly with Mr; 
Myers, and my brother, who was also friendly 
with him, told her that if she carried her acquaint- 
ance with Mr Myers further than ordinary 
friendship, he would tell him that she was deceiv~ 
ing him. 

My brother's words were, in substance if not 
literally, "Myers is too good a young fellow for 
you to fool, and I won't stand it." 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 219 

My sister was very angry, and made some 
threats of what she would do, as might be ex- 
pected ; but whether she ever fabricated any story 
to the effect that my brother had stolen from Mr. 
Myers' store, as an offset to anything my brother 
might say, I do not know. I only know that I 
never said that my brother "appropriated" any- 
thing, for he did not. 

The turnover, about which so much has been 
said by the papers, was brought home by my 
brother one day during the week previous to his 
illness, from a bakery where he had been assisting, 
and never had anything to do with his sickness, in. 
any way. When I was told that a turnover had 
been poisoned, I simply answered that if it had, 
the poison must have got in at the bakery, not 
supposing that any such thing had occurred, as it 
had not. The pie my brother ate was a piece of 
mince pie that had frost in it. As every housewife 
knows, it is the custom to leave mince pies where 
they will keep cold until needed, when they are 
warmed for use. My brother ate the piece with- 
out warming, and I told him it was not good for 
him to do so. 



220 THE LIFE STORY OF 

TESTIMONY OF R. H. STROBRIDGE. 

R. H. Strobridge testified: That William Par- 
quet made a bargain with him for a lot, and had 
papers made out in his own name; that the land 
was not conveyed on those papers, but that Mrs. 
Victor had papers made out in her name, and the 
lot was conveyed to her; that Mrs. Victor and 
not Parquet paid money on it. 

Answer: When my brother talked of getting 
married, I told him I would make the first pay- 
ment on a place for him, and if he would save his 
money and make the other payments, he could 
have a home. He found a place, and before I saw 
him, had papers made out in his own name. He 
had no faculty for saving money, and I feared that 
if he had a deed of the place before all the pay- 
ments were made, he would, likely, lose the whole. 
So I had the papers made in my own name, and 
paid two hundred dollars. We both always spoke 
of the place as being his, but he understood the 
whole matter, and knew that it would not be 
really his until he had made the other payments. 

TESTIMONY OF JAY ODEUL, RECORDER. 

Jay Odell testified : To a book as being a book 






SARAH M. VICTOR. 221 

of records. Records considered in evidence con- 
tained a deed from Robert H. Strobridge to Sarah 
M. Victor, dated September 5, 1866, and recorded 
on page one hundred and fifty-eight, volume one 
hundred and forty-three; also a mortgage dated 
September 3, 1866. 



& 



222 THE LIFE STORY OF 



CHAPTER XVI. 

A Place at Euclid— Three Hundred Dollars— On Thanks- 
giving—James W. Lee— E. W. Fenner— About Changing 
Doctors— Mary Davis— Eliza Welch— Ida Weily— Heart 
Disease— Lyman D. Hunt— A Ring— "Take It and Kill 
Yourself "—Hannah Newel— Fainting at the Grave— 
Jared P. Newel— See Files— See Register— J. G- Black 
Paid— All Expenses. 

TESTIMONY OF ANN MOREHOUSE. 

ANN MOREHOUSE testified: That she had 
known Mrs. Victor a little less than two 
years; that "perhaps in March," Mrs. Victor told 
her that she was going to Euclid to buy "Billy" a 
place; that Mrs. Victor said "Billy" had sent her 
three hundred dollars from the army, and she was 
going to put it in land for him; that Mrs. Victor 
told her that the money was in the bank, and that 
the time Mrs. Victor said so was between Thanks- 
giving and the time William Parquet died; that 
Mrs. Victor told her that she (Mrs. Victor) could 
get nothing on either insurance policy. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 223 

Answer : The first time I ever saw Mrs. More- 
house was on the Thanksgiving of 1866, when my 
sister brought her to my house to dinner, having 
previously told me of her and asked my consent to 
invite her. 

As I had bought the place for my brother in the 
September before, as is shown in the last chapter, 
and as my brother died in less than three months 
after I first saw Mrs. Morehouse, I could not have 
told her, " perhaps in March," nor at any other 
time, that my brother had sent me three hundred 
dollars from the army, and I was going to put it 
in land for him. Does it not appear somewhat 
remarkable that I should have told a person that 
I had three hundred dollars of my brother's money 
in the bank, more than a year after he had re- 
turned from the army, and when he could look 
after his own money ? 

Mrs. Morehouse and my sister were very inti- 
mate, at one time, after my brother's death, room- 
ing together, and if Mrs. Morehouse asked me 
anything in regard to the insurance on my 
brother's life, I may have answered evasively, 
thinking the question prompted by my sister. 
The public may compare the statements made by 



224 THE LIFE STORY OF 

Mrs. Morehouse, and come to its own con- 
clusions. 

TESTIMONY OF* JAMES W. LEE OF THE FIRM OF 
CARLTON & LEE. 

James W. Lee testified: That Mrs. Victor re- 
turned a life insurance policy to his office, 
receipted for payment; that he did not think he 
paid the money on the policy, but that it was 
paid; that the money was left on deposit in the 
safe of Carlton & Lee, subject to Mrs. Victor's 
order; that he sometimes paid Mrs. Victor money 
in Mr. Carlton's absence; that he did not think 
there were any orders given; that he thought 
some five or six hundred dollars remained in their 
hands until after Mrs. Victor's arrest; that the 
five or six hundred dollars was taken up by an 
order. 

Answer: Mr. Carlton wrote to me from the 
east, where he was at the time, and told me to 
take the policy to the office before the legal time 
ran out. I took it, as Mr. Lee testified. 

TESTIMONY OF E. W. FENNER. 

E. W. Fenner testified : That William Parquet 
worked for him about ten months ; that when he 



_ 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 225 

settled with him he paid him all up except seventy- 
five dollars, and gave him an order on Mrs. Victor 
for that amount; that he afterwards paid Mrs. 
Victor the seventy-five dollars, but had no receipt ; 
that he might be mistaken about having paid it 
all; that Parquet had a fall in his (Fenner's) barn 
in May, he thought, of '66; that Parquet was not 
strong; that he sat up with him on Saturday 
night; that he thought something was said about 
chloroform, but he did not think any was used on 
Parquet that night; that Parquet vomited often 
and went to stool several times ; that he thought 
he was a very sick man; that he told Mrs. Victor 
and Mrs. Gray he thought they ought to change 
doctors, and that Mrs. Victor said she did not 
think any doctor could help him; that Parquet 
and Ann, his (Fenner's) daughter, were particu- 
larly intimate ; that his other daughter died while 
Parquet worked for him. The question in regard 
to William and Ann's contemplated matrimon}- 
was objected to, and the objection sustained. 

Answer : Mr. Fenner gave my brother an order 
on me for seventy-five dollars. I owed Mr. Fen- 
ner about fifteen dollars for work on a house and 
fence, and he paid me about thirty-five dollars in 



226 THE LIFE STORY OF 

money, and some potatoes and apples. The bal- 
ance of the seventy-five dollars has never been 
paid. 

Something may have been said about chloroform 
that night, but none was used, and there was 
none in my house. 

Whenever anything would be said about chang- 
ing physicians, my brother would say, "Don't lose 
faith in your doctor, sister; for no doctor can 
help me." 

I did think my brother would die, even from the 
fore part of the week, and doubtless said so. 

As soon as anything would be brought up that 
would have a tendency to show the true state of 
affairs with my brother on account of his disap- 
pointment, and thus help ray case, Mr. Jones 
would object, and Judge Foote would almost in- 
variably sustain the objection. (See answer to 
testimony of J. W. Thomas and N. Merrill.) 

TESTIMONY OF MARY DAVIS. 

Marv Davis testified : That Mrs. Victor told her 
that William Parquet went out the night he was 
taken sick, and that he slipped on the front door- 
step on coming home, and, afterwards, ate a piece 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 227 

of pie — mince pie, she thought — that had frost in 
it, and that Mrs. Victor said she thought that was 
what caused his illness. 

Answer: I thought the fall on the steps had 
re-hurt the injured side — the one he fell on at Mr. 
Fenner's. 

TESTIMONY OF ELIZA WELCH. 

Eliza Welch testified : That Mrs. Victor told her 
on the Saturday before William Parquet's death, 
that he had spasms of the stomach. 

Answer: As I know Mrs. W T elch to be a con- 
scientious woman, I have no doubt I told her 
what she stated. My brother's stomach and side 
were all he complained of. 

TESTIMONY OF IDA WEILY. 

Ida Weily testified : That Mrs. Victor told her 
that William Parquet died of heart disease. 
. Answer : I feel sure that I did not say ''disease," 
but "trouble," meaning that he was heart-broken 
over his disappointment. 

TESTIMONY OF LYMAN D. HUNT. 

Lvman D. Hunt testified: That he first visited 



228 THE LIFE STORY OF 

Parquet on the Sunday evening that he was taken 
sick; that he took tea with him (Parquet) at that 
time, and that Parquet showed him a ring with 
"Miss Annie Fen ner "engraved on the inside; that 
he (Hunt) was sent for on Tuesday night, and 
went to Mrs. Victor's with a man named Pumpin; 
that when he got there, he found Mrs. Gray on 
the sofa in Parquet 1 s room, and that she stayed 
in the room till about twelve o y clock; that when 
Parquet asked for chloroform, Mrs. Victor said, 
"Take it and kill yourself if you want to, and 
leave your sister alone;" that Mrs. Victor sat on 
the bed fanning her brother, and seemed to "take 
it hardly;" that Mrs. Victor said she thought 
Parquet would die; that when Mrs. Victor went 
to lie down, on Friday night, she wanted the door 
left open, so that she could hear if her brother got 
worse, and be there if he died; that he (Hunt) 
answered that Parquet wasn't going to die as he 
"knowed" of; that Parquet vomited very often 
on Tuesday night and went to stool once; that 
he went to see Parquet on the Sunday afternoon 
before he died, and that Mrs. Victor sent Mrs. 
Gray out after morphine about four o'clock, and 
when it was brought, Mrs. Victor gave Parquet 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 229 

a large dose; that chloroform was given five or 
six times Sunday afternoon ; that Parquet holloed 
about. once in fifteen or twenty minutes on Tues- 
day night ; that all the medicine given Parquet 
was in powder; that Parquet took chloroform 
every fifteen minutes, and that it sent him to sleep in 
about four seconds; that Parquet would sleep 
about ten minutes; that in his waking intervals, he 
took his medicine, holloed and took more chloro- 
form ; that when Mrs. Victor dealt out the morphine 
for her brother to take, Mr. Pumpin held a spoon 
and she tipped up the paper so the powder 
would go in. 

Answer : Mr. Hunt took tea at my house on the 
Sunda}- before my brother was taken violently ill. 
He was the one mentioned before as having been 
invited by my brother. 

As the newspapers never neglected an opportu- 
nity to show my alleged heartlessness, by publish- 
ing the statement that when my brother asked for 
chloroform, to relieve the torture caused by arsenic 
administered by me in multiform ways, I said, 
"Die, and let your sister alone," the testimony of 
Mr. Hunt in regard to the matter should have a 
passing notice. 



230 THE LIFE STORY OF 

In the first place, I will say, emphatically, that I 
never made that remark. But, admitting that I 
made it, and even in the coarse form in which it is 
given in Mr. Hunt's testimony, what, let me ask, 
does it show to any fair-minded person, but an 
objection on my part to my brother's using chlo- 
roform, from fear that he would kill himself and 
thus leave me alone? I give the remark as it 
stands in the record ; the reader may decide as to 
its weight and meaning. 

On going into the room after being absent a 
moment, I saw Mr. Hunt with a bottle of liquor 
in his hand, and knowing that all rest was lost for 
that night, I had the door left open so that if my 
brother was neglected, I could hear him call. 

I sent Mrs. Gray out about two o'clock, Sunday 
afternoon, for some veratrum, and for nothing 
else. T did not dare to give my brother morphine 
when I knew he was so near death, and as I was 
still more afraid of chloroform, and Dr. Sapp's 
medicines seemed to be of no use, I sent for the 
veratrum. 

All the medicines were in powder on Friday and 
Sunday, but not on Tuesday. Mr. Pumpin gave 
no medicines except the powders left by Dr. Sapp. 






SARAH M. VICTOR. 231 

No chloroform was used either on Sunday or the 
latter part of the week. By comparing portions I 
have italicized in Mr. Hunt's and my sister's tes- 
timony in regard to Tuesday night, some idea may 
be formed of the entire testimony as shown by the 
records. 

TESTIMONY OF HANNAH NEWEL. 

Hannah Newel testified : That she first saw Wil- 
liam Parquet at a party in Euclid about three or 
four weeks before his death, she thought; that her 
husband used to keep carriages fourteen or fifteen 
years before ; that she did not go to Mrs. Victor's 
while Parquet was sick, but went to his funeral; 
that she returned to the cemeter}- with Mrs. 
Victor at the latter's request; that Mrs. Victor 
bent some twigs down on the grave of Parquet, so 
as to be able to tell if it was disturbed afterwards ; 
that Mrs. Victor said afterwards in the presence 
of Mrs. Crozier that her brother might have been 
poisoned while at Mr. Fenner's; that Airs. Victor 
and Mrs. Crozier had a quarrel. 

Answer: When my brother's grave was dug, 
the box containing the remains of my children was 
taken up, and was to be re-interred with my 



232 THE LIFE STORY OF 

brother's remains. After my brother's coffin was 
lowered into the grave, a man took up the box, 
when it came to pieces in his hands and the bones 
of my children fell to the ground. Thoughts of my 
baby, that I had loved so well, came to my mind 
and I fainted. The people hurried me to a carriage, 
and I was driven nearly home before I recovered 
sufficiently to realize what was being done. As 
soon as I collected my thoughts, I felt that I must 
go back and make sure that none of the remains 
of my children had been overlooked and left un- 
buried. So, as Mr. Newel had a carriage there, I 
got him to take me back, and asked his wife to go 
with me. No mother having lost a child, could 
see guilt in that action. 

It is quite possible that after reaching the ceme- 
tery and finding nothing neglected, I thought of 
the danger of my brother's body being taken up, 
for I was afraid the students whom Dr. Sapp had 
wanted to bring to my house might be determined 
to carry out their wishes. Had the whole truth 
been told, there would have been no room for 
suspicion. 

Mrs. Newel sent for me to come to her house to 
see Mrs. Crozier, whom I had never seen before. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 233 

"When I went, I found Mrs. Crozier to be a bitter 
enemy of the Fenners'. She insinuated that Mr. 
Fenner's people had been so much opposed to my 
brother's marriage with Ann, that they might have 
given him something. I thought it preposter- 
ous. I at last told the woman that I felt sure 
there was no such violent opposition, but that if I 
thought there was, or had been, I would have 
them answer for it. The woman made the state- 
ment to me, not I to her. 

TESTIMONY OF JARED P. NEWEL. 

Jared P. Newel testified: That he had lived in 
Cleveland about three years "this last time; " that 
he had known Mrs. Victor a little over a year; 
that he went in once, on Friday, to see Parquet 
while he was sick ; that after her brother's death, 
Mrs. Victor said something about having his grave 
watched; that he took Mrs. Victor down to see 
Dr. Sapp two or three days after Parquet died ; 
that Mrs. Victor asked him, in the jail, if he heard 
a conversation with Dr. Sapp, and said he must be 
deaf if he didn't; that Mrs. Victor said there was 
no insurance on Parquet's life — that it had run 
out. 



234? THE LIFE STORY OF 

Answer: Mr. Newel took me to Dr. Sapp's 
office, as he testified, and he took me there while 
my brother was sick, also. I asked him, in the 
jail, if he remembered the conversation with Dr. 
Sapp on the first occasion, and found that his 
memory failed him when it would help my case to 
remember. 

It will be seen that Mr. Newel testified that he 
had lived in Cleveland about three years "this 
last time," thereby giving the inference that he 
had , lived in Cleveland at some previous time. 
Next let it be noticed that Hannah Newel (who 
was Mr. Newel's wife) testified that her husband 
kept carriages fourteen or fifteen years before — that 
is, before the time of her testifying, which was in 
1868. Now, if the reader will take fourteen or 
fifteen years from 1868, he will get the dates 
1853-54. Then, if the reader is a resident of 
Cleveland or should chance to be here, let him go 
to the rooms of the Historical society, in the 
Savings Bank building on the public square, and 
look over the files of the Cleveland daily papers 
of 1853, and he will find that Mrs. Sigsby was 
murdered in her home on Muirson street in May 
of that year. From the Historical rooms, let him 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 235 

go to the county jail and examine the register in 
which the names, residence, crimes, etc., etc., of 
those received therein are entered, and he will find 
that all entries from 1-851 to 1855 are missing and 
upon inspection cannot fail to conclude that the 
leaves which should have contained those entries 
have been cut clear and removed from the register. 
Mrs. Sigsby was a woman whose house was said 
to be frequented by men of the city, and what 
knowledge Mr. Newel may have gained in his 
duties as hackman that was potent enough for 
his protection, I will not attempt to say. I could 
go much farther with this matter, but I have no 
desire to do more than to show that I have not 
been deceiving my friends for the last twenty 
years, as those interesting themselves in the case 
have tried to force them to believe. Mr. Newel 
and many of his helpers are dead, but that I am 
not, is only through God's mercy and the help of 
just people. 

TESTIMONY OF J. G. BLACK. 

J. G. Black testified : That he let two sleighs to 
William Parquet with which to go to Air. Fen- 
ner's, in January ; that Parquet paid the bill. 



'236 



THE LIFE STORY OF 



Answer : I got up a party to please my brother 
— to give him an opportunity to see Miss Fenner, 
-as he could not give her up. I paid all expenses, 
amounting to about forty dollars. I sent the 
.money to the liveryman by my brother. 






SARAH M. VICTOR. 237 



CHAPTER XVII. 

Libbie Gray— Could not Read or Write— Morphine on Fri- 
day—Cry and Hollo— Would Have Two Doctors— On 
Sunday P. M-— On Tuesday— Reply— Whisky and Water 
—At the Funeral— Never Mind— Taking a Boy— Sell- 
ing a Lot— Went to Newel's—" Sailed My Last Trip "— 
Edwin Tolson— In Great Agony— "A Kind of Sleep"— 
Insinuations— Chloroform— A Sinking Spell. 

TESTIMONY OF LIBBIE GRAY. 

LIBBIE GRAY testified : That she had lived in 
Cleveland six years; that she had lived in 
Cleveland six months; that she had lived with 
Mrs. Victor about two years ; that William Parquet 
came home from the army when she was at Mrs. 
Victor's; that Parquet was taken sick on Monday 
night; that he went to the cupboard and ate a 
piece of pie before going to bed on that night; that 
she first learned of his illness on Tuesday after- 
noon, when she was sent for to her shop; that 
Parquet could not read or write; that she thought 



238 THE LIFE STORY OF 

she sat up with her brother (Parquet) on Thurs- 
day night in company with whoever else was there 
— that somebody was always there ; that she gave 
her brother chloroform a good many times ; that 
Mrs. Victor gave him morphine once, and she 
thought it was during the day on Friday ; that 
at one time she found Mrs. Victor crying by her 
brother's bed, and that when she (Mrs. Gray) 
asked her why she cried, she said she thought her 
brother would die; that Mrs. Victor gave Parquet 
chloroform; that on Sunday, between three and 
four o'clock in the afternoon, her brother said he 
wanted some whisky and sugar and water, and 
that she saw her sister (Mrs. Victor) give it to 
him; that soon after that he began to cry and 
hollo; that she did not see the whisky prepared ; 
that two men, Pumpin and Hunt, saw Parquet 
while he was suffering from it ; that she went to 
bed about twelve o'clock the same night — the night 
before her brother died; that when her brotherwas 
dying, Mrs. Victor first said, go for a doctor, and 
then, that they had better go for Mr. Carlton, 
because her brother was dying; that she wanted 
her brother opened, but that Mrs. Victor objected, 
and said that she (Mrs. Gray) had no feeling; that 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 239 

Mrs. Victor consented to have two doctors open 
her brother, but did not want any more; that 
Mrs. Victor said that if Dr. Sapp said any more 
about it, vshe would ask him if he killed her brother, 
and that if he did not know what he was doctor- 
ing him for, she would have him arrested; that 
Mrs. Victor afterwards told Dr. Sapp that if it 
was any of his own folks, he would feel as she did 
about having him opened ; that Mrs. Victor told 
her at the funeral that she ought to show that she 
had more feeling, as she was not crying; that she 
never knew about any insurance policy except the 
accident policy until after her brother's death, and 
that then Mrs. Victor said that "Billy died from 
that hurt," and that if it could be shown that he 
died from anything else, they, Mrs. Gray and Mrs. 
Victor, could get the insurance; that (in sub- 
stance) herself and Mrs. Victor had a quarrel in 
Mr. Newel's kitchen, and that Mrs. Victor said 
that her brother knew nothing about the insur- 
ance—that he was away in the army when it was 
got, and knew nothing about it; that Mrs. Victor 
said she would build a house on a lot of hers (Mrs. 
Gray's) if Mrs. Gray would give her a deed of the 
lot; that Mrs. Victor said she would do anything 



240 THE LIFE STORY OF 

for her she could do ; that Parquet spoke of going^ 
west, and Mrs. Victor said she wanted him to stay 
with her, as he was the only brother she had ; that 
Mrs. Victor said she would get him a situation on 
the lake with Captain Visher ; that she (Mrs. Gray) 
got up on the Tuesday morning after Parquet was 
taken sick Monday night, and went to his room 
to call him, and not finding him either there or in 
the kitchen, went to her shop without her break- 
fast and did not go home to dinner ; that when her 
son was sent to her shop to tell her that her 
brother was sick, she went to see her brother and 
stayed fifteen minutes and then went back to her 
shop, spent the evening out, and did not get home 
until about eight o'clock, when she rang the bell, 
but did nothing more, and as no one let her in, she 
went back to her shop and slept in the room of a 
woman who lived overhead ; that she did not 
think she went home at all on Friday until even- 
ing ; tha t she did not think she was in her brother's 
room Sunday afternoon before eight o'clock; that 
she gave her brother chloroform every evening; 
that she gave him none on Wednesday and Sun- 
day evenings; that she thought her name was 
Gray ; that she had at different times gone by dif- 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 241 

ferent names— by those of Carther, Bails, Robin- 
son and Gibson. 

Answer : The first statement of my sister's that 
calls for an answer is the one in which she says our 
brother could not read or write. William could 
both read and write. His ability to do either was 
limited, however, his reading being like that of a 
child, while he wrote with such difficulty that he 
very much disliked to take a pen in his hand, par- 
ticularly in the presence of strangers. Yet, he 
could write sufficiently well for me to read what 
he wrote. 

Her statement that someone was always there 
while William was sick, is true; as one or more oi 
his friends or associates stayed with him every 
night of his illness. Chloroform was used on my 
brother until I threw it away, as told in my 
answer to Dr. Sapp's testimony, and no longer to 
my knowledge. 

She testified that she found me crying at my 
brother's bedside. I would be glad to say that I 
ever saw her cry over our brother except when in 
fright at his spells of swooning, and when he was 
dying. But the sad truth was that she disliked 
William, and never fully controlled the feeling even 






242 THE LIFE STORY OF 

during his last illness. While she was still in the 
west, William was at one time with her, and they 
had some trouble with each other that my sister 
never forgot. William could not retain hard feel- 
ings towards anyone, and would do anything for 
my sister, but when she would disregard my 
wishes, he would become angry, and the conse- 
quence was that they were constantly in discord. 

On the Sunday evening before William died I 
gave him some whisky and water with a teaspoon 
— perhaps two teaspoonfuls. He did ask for it, 
and as I felt that he was beyond the help of any- 
thing except some stimulant, which might possibly 
revive him for a few hours, and as I did not want 
to deny him anything in his last moments, I gave 
it to him. He soon became restless, but it was the 
restlessness that precedes death, and I do not 
know whether the whisky made any difference in 
it or not; I only know that I gave it with the 
best of intentions. 

I heard before my arrest, that Dr. Sapp had 
been told that I had threatened to have him ar- 
rested for malpractice; but I never had threatened 
such a thing nor had any intention of the kind ; 
and if I ever made such a remark as my sister 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 243 

testified to, it was certainly never expressed in 
such words, and must have been made when I 
was irritated by the thought that after having 
shown a seeming apathy in my brothers case that 
I could not understand, Dr. Sapp then wanted 
to bring a class of students into my house to cut 
up and comment on my brother's body. 

I did tell my sister to put on at least an appear- 
ance of decency at William's funeral, but not 
until two ladies, one the wife of one of the rectors 
of Trinity church, had spoken to me in regard to 
her light and indifferent manner. 

The testimony in regard to what I said of the 
insurance on my brother's life is so plainly self- 
refuting that explanation seems unnecessary, yet 
I will state the fact that my sister was told of 
the insurance repeatedly both by William and my- 
self. When my brother got the insurance, it was 
understood between us that if he should die and 
I receive the money, I should do what I thought 
right by our sister Libbie. She was then in Penn- 
sylvania with her husband, Dr. Gray, but as 
there was constant disagreement between them, 
I told my brother that I had no doubt they would 
finally separate. He then told me of the trouble 



244 THE LIFE STORY OF 

he had had with Libbie in the west, and said it 
would be folly to give her anything outright, as 
she would soon squander everything and again 
be in need of help. 

When William finally returned from the army, 
Libbie was with me, and many times afterwards 
when she would complain that her work was 
hard (she did a small millinery and dressmaking 
business, in which I had myself established her), 
he would say to her jokingly, yet half in earnest, 
as he never thought he would live long, "Never 
mind, Libbie, I've got my life insured, and I shan't 
live long." 

From the first, my sister had the impression that 
William's life was insured for her and myself jointly. 
When my brother and I found that she had that im- 
pression, he said it was best not to undeceive her, 
as it would only make her angry. I did not un- 
deceive her, both for the same reason that my 
brother did not, and the additional reason that 
I never thought that my brother would die, and 
consequently never calculated on the results of 
his death. 

As a consequence of the impression held by my 
sister, she never opened her shop after William 



SARAH 1ft. VICTOR. 245 

died, and soon began to inquire about the insur- 
ance money. The responsibility of righting mat- 
ters had come upon me so suddenly and unexpect- 
edly that I felt almost incapable of acting at all. 
My health was miserable, and knowing what my 
sister's anger was, I dreaded to arouse it. I did 
tell her, however, that the insurance was for her 
benefit only through me, at the same time telling 
her that I would build a house on a lot of mine, 
not hers, as she had none in Cleveland, and let 
her have it for a home. She did not accept the 
proposition, and I tried to reason with her. 

About that time, I went to Detroit to an orphan 
asylum, where I had once been before my sister 
came from St. Louis, to see if I could find a little 
boy to live with me, as my sister wanted her own. 
Thinking it would be pleasant for us to go to- 
gether, I took Libbie with me. I found a little fel- 
low who wanted to come with me, and my 
sister insisted on my taking him, which I did, and 
kept him up to the time I was arrested. He had 
no name, and I named him Curtis C. Victor. My 
sister was pleased with our trip, and I think I 
could have persuaded her to listen to reason, had 
it not been for Mr. Newel's influence. 



246 THE LIFE STORY OF 

I was ill, and went to Dr. Seelye's Water Cure, 
in Cleveland, and time passed on. At last my 
sister sold a lot she had been given by Dr. Gray in 
their final settlement, and which was in Corry, 
Pennsylvania, where she separated from him. 
During my absence my sister's mind had been so 
worked on, that as soon as she sold the lot in 
Corry she left my house and went to Mr. Newel's 
to live. 

I believe I could have shown her the folly of such 
a step, had not Mr. Newel himself come to my 
house and said to her, "Our house is just as much 
your home as this is," in that way inducing her to 
disregard me. 

At the time, I thought Mr. Newel's family 
wanted my sister to make her home with them 
because they knew she would have money from 
the sale of the lot, with which to pay her board 
for awhile. I became convinced afterwards that 
the getting of nry sister out of my house and 
where her mind could be worked upon by others 
was a vital point with Mr. Newel, and explained 
the audacity of his conduct in coming into my 
house and insisting on her leaving me. 

At the time of which my sister testified of our 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 247 

being in Mr. Newel's kitchen, she was claiming 
that she knew the policy was made out for her 
benefit as well as mine, and that I was trying to 
defraud her out of the money. I simply told her 
that she, not he, knew nothing about it, for my 
brother was away in the army when he got it ; 
which was a fact, he only being home on a fur- 
lough. It will be remembered that my sister was 
in Pennsylvania when William first came home, 
and did not see him until he was discharged. 

After my brother came home from Mr. Fenner's, 
he would at times think he could not stay in 
Cleveland after being disappointed in his matters 
with Miss Fenncr, and said he thought he would 
go west. I did not want him to go so far away 
from me again, and thought that if I could get 
him a situation on the lakes, he would often be in 
Cleveland, and, moreover, that the excitement of 
the work would keep his mind from dwelling on 
his disappointment. I knew Captain Visher, 
whose steamer ran in and out of Cleveland, and 
told my brother I would send for him. I did so, 
but he did not come until the Saturday before my 
brother died. He then tried to cheer William, 
telling him that the steamer was already being 



248 THE LIFE STORY OF 

fitted up, and that he could invite his friends to 
take a trip with him occasionally. 

But William said he knew he would never get 
well. When the captain told him he would be 
"all right again in a few months," William said, 
"No, Captain Visher; I've sailed my last trip." 

William had been on the water at times during 
the 3 r ears he had been away from me, and that was 
the reason I thought of such a situation for him. 

My sister knew when William was taken sick on 
Monday night. I have no recollection of her 
being out all night while William was sick, and if 
she had rung for admission at any hour of the 
night during his illness, she would have been 
admitted. 

TESTIMONY OF EDWIN TOLSON. 

Edwin Tolson testified : That he lived near Mrs. 
Victor's; that he heard a "wailing" at his gate, 
on Thursday night, three days before Parquet 
died, and that on asking who was there, found a 
boy named Wesley; that he ran over to Mrs. 
Victor's and found Parquet in "great agony," 
Mrs. Gray in great distress from grief and Mrs. 
Victor with her arms around Parquet ; that Par- 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 249 

quet seemed, as he (Tolson) looked at him, to be 
in "a kind of sleep," that he (Tolson) "would call 
comatose;" that he did not go to Mrs. Victor's 
again until Parquet was dead; that he thought 
from some discolorations and marks found on the 
body when he laid Parquet out, that he ought to 
be opened, to see if he had been treated for the 
right disease; that he told Mrs. Victor that 
soldiers were not always the most moral men 
living; that he told Mrs. Victor (in substance) 
that some vagabond medical men would so treat 
men who had been imprudent that their lives 
would go out like the snuff of a candle; that Mrs. 
Victor objected to her brother's body being opened 
to be handled by young students, but said she 
would not feel as bad about it if Dr. Beckwith and 
Dr. Sapp did it. Mr. Tolson was recalled, and 
testified, that when he went into Parquet's room 
on Thursday night there was a lamp burning 
without a chimney, and as he felt a sense of suffo- 
cation, he had the lamp removed; that there was 
a vial on the bureau containing a liquid, but that 
he could not swear what the liquid was ; that on 
that night, he saw Mrs. Victor have the vial and 
.a handkerchief in her hand ; that after Parquet 



250 THE LIFE STORY OF 

died, the sheet with which he was covered was 
saturated half way down with chloroform. 

Answer: Mr. Tolson said, as is seen, that 
when he was sent for in the night, he found my 
brother in great agony, and follows by saying 
that as he looked at my brother, he, the la,tter, 
seemed to be in a kind of sleep, such as Mr. Tolson 
would call comatose. 

How there could have been symptoms of great 
agony and a "kind of sleep" or comatose condi- 
tion at the same time, I leave the reader to deter- 
mine. The facts were, however, that on the night 
on which Mr. Tolson was sent for, my brother 
had a sinking spell, of which he had a number from 
about Wednesday up to the time of his death, and 
we thought he was dying. When Mr. Tolson 
arrived, I was holding my brother's head up and 
applying such restoratives as were at hand, while 
my sister was standing by helpless with fright, as 
she always was at such times. 

After being re-called, Mr. Tolson is made to in- 
sinuate — he does not so testify — that I was admin- 
istering chloroform to my brother — on the same 
night that he was in the "great agony " and yet in 
"a kind of sleep" or comatose condition. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 251 

My answer to the insinuation is that there was 
no chloroform in my house at the time to my 
knowledge, and certainly none used on my brother, 
for I would have detected it. The public may 
judge whether or not I would, in the presence of 
Mr. Myers (who was there), Mrs. Gray and Mr. 
Tolson, use chloroform on my brother, even had I 
wished to kill him, when he was so near death 
that I had sent out for the neighbors. The sheet 
was saturated with whisky and arnica as a pre- 
servative, and with nothing else. 

In regard to my objection to having a post- 
mortem examination, I will say that every word 
Mr. Tolson said to me in regard to it only in- 
creased my determination to carry out my brother's 
request, and not have his body examined and com- 
mented on. The reasons are obvious. I consented 
and proposed to have the physicians Mr. Tolson 
names. 



252 THE LIFE STORY OF 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

Dr. Sapp— A Mistake in His Papers— Threw Chloroform 
Away — Answer — Veratrum — In No Danger — Went to 
Doctor's Office— Annie Fenner— Gave Back a Ring— 
Dr. S. R. Beckwith — Examined William Parquet— A 
Certificate — Of Date of Policy — C. C Carlton— 
About Insurance— The House on Webster Street— Can: 
Now Thank God— William A. King— J. W. Thomas— N. 
Merrill. 

TESTIMONY OF LEVI W. SAPP, HOMOEOPATHIC 
PHYSICIAN. 

LEVI W. SAPP testified : That he first saw 
William Parquet at Mr. Fenner's, after the 
former had received a fall; that Mrs. Victor paid 
him for the visit; that he was called to attend 
Parquet one or two days after he was taken with 
his last illness ; that he thought Parquet suffering 
from dysentery; that Parquet had pains in his 
stomach and right side, with some thirst; that 
there was some nausea ; that there was tenesmus 
or straining during evacuations, and the stool was 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 253 

bloody; tnat Mrs. Victor told him Parquet had 
slipped on the doorstep and eaten a piece of cold 
pie; that he gave Parquet aconite and mercury, 
also bromide and russ ; that he believed his medi- 
cines were to be given in water ; that he did not 
see Parquet at stool, but saw the fascal matter 
mixed with blood at one time during his first visits; 
that he had made a mistake in his papers, and 
could not tell how many visits he made ; that he 
saw little change in the disease or symptoms up to 
Sunday morning previous to Parquet's death; 
that he told Mrs. Victor there was no danger ; that 
Mrs Victor did not visit his office during Parquet's 
illness; that about the middle of Parquet's sick- 
ness, Mrs. Victor said Mrs. Gray wanted to give 
her brother chloroform, and that she, Mrs. Victor, 
threw it out the window; that he changed Par- 
quet's medicine after the first or second visit, but 
could not tell what he changed to; that he did 
not know that he knew anything of veratrum be- 
ing given. In answer to, perhaps, the greater 
number of questions asked him in his somewhat 
lengthy testimony, Dr. Sapp expressed an inability 
to remember. 
Answer: When my brother was taken sick on 



254 THE LIFE STORY OF 

Monday night, I thought the cause was his hav- 
ing eaten the cold pie. I took him into my room 
because there was no stove in his, and thought 
that with care he would soon be better. As he 
had pains in his stomach and side, I gave him 
some veratrum that I had in the house for myself, 
as I had taken it for pain in the chest and sup- 
posed it would relieve him. It may not have been 
the kind of medicine he should have had, but the 
fault, if there was any, was in my judgment and 
not in my intentions. 

My brother did not want a physician, and I did 
not send for one until, during the day on Tuesday, 
I saw he was getting no better, when I sent for 
Dr. Sapp. The doctor did not come until Wednes- 
dav morning, according to my recollection. He 
may have come Tuesday evening. 

The medicines left by the doctor on his first and, 
I think, up to his third visit, were to be taken in 
water; but William said he wished I would ask 
the doctor to give him something else, as the 
liquid sickened him in the taking. I spoke to the 
doctor, and he changed to powders. In my trial 
great stress was laid on the alleged fact that I 
did most of the talking about my brother's med- 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 255 

icines and condition. I certainly did the talking 
on the occasion mentioned, and my brother would 
hardly have liked to say to Dr. Sapp, as he did 
to me, that his medicines were so flat and sicken- 
ing that the sight of them turned his stomach. 
He knew that I would put the matter in a better 
light, and so left it to me. 

Dr. Sapp did tell me that my brother was in no 
danger, and thinking that he was deceived by the 
quiet state my brother was in of mornings, I got 
Mr. Newel to drive me down to his office, when I 
asked Dr. Sapp if he would make his visits in the 
afternoon. I see that the record of testimony 
does not contain the statement made by me that 
Mr. Newel drove me to Dr. Sapp's office during 
my brother's illness ; but I did make such a state- 
ment, Mr. Newel did drive me down there, and I 
did ask Dr. Sapp to make his visits in the after- 
noon. I well remember that the doctor was talk- 
ing to a man on horseback, and that I had to 
wait some time before speaking to him. I recall, 
also, that he said he was very busy, and gave me 
no definite answer. I remember, moreover, that 
Mr. Newel spoke of the doctor's seeming indiffer- 
ence, and that his words were something to the 



256 THE LIFE STORY OF 

effect that the doctor did not seem to think "com- 
mon folks were of much account." The evidence 
of both Dr. Sapp and Mr. Newel as called out to 
refute the statement, is given, but the statement 
itself does not appear in the record. 

On the second or third day, I can not tell defi- 
nitely which, after my brother was taken sick, I 
went into the room after being out a sh ort time, and 
found him in a partially unconscious state and 
my sister lying beside him on the bed in the same 
condition. There was a strong odor of chloro- 
form in the room, and I thought in a moment, 
that my sister had attempted to administer some 
to William — we had got some at his request on 
Tuesday — and had come near killing both him and 
herself. 

I worked to restore my brother first, and as soon 
as I saw he was reviving, I caught hold of my 
sister and raised her up, when she said, as I dis- 
tinctly remember, "Oh, Toot ! I feel so strange ! '* 
"Toot" was a nickname by which our family 
often called me. 

I was thoroughly frightened, and very much out 
of patience with my sister. I knew she had no judg- 
ment in such matters, and that I could not trust 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 257 

her in my absence, so I took the remair llri g chloro- 
form and threw it out of the window. When Dr. 
Sapp next came, I told him what I ha^ done atlc ^ 
asked him to give directions that no chloroform 
should be used, as I thought my sister would heed 
what he said, although she always se£ mea - deter- 
mined to disobey me. I did not tell nim of m J 
sister's action, because that would h aYe obliged 
me to tell that she would not heed m£> anc * I did 
not want to parade my family trou D ^ es before 
him. 

Dr. Sapp failed to say in his testimony* that I 
made the request, yet I did make it, and although 
he did not give the direction I asked, ne told mc 
that if my brother needed anything quieting, to 
give him morphine, as that was bett er f° r mm 
than chloroform. That, and that onlf> was the 
reason that morphine was used. It was never used 
but once that I remember of, and cert amr y never 
more than twice. 

It will be seen that the doctor's memory would 
not enable him to tell what he changed the medi- 
cines to ; and it must be plainly apparent to every- 
body that had he been able to tell what medicines 
he changed to, some idea might have be en arrived 



258 THE LIFE STORY OF 

at as to the form — whether powder or liquid. The 
object of the prosecution was to show that all the 
prescribed medicines were in liquid form, and that 
the powders were given by me, to poison my 
brother. In regard to the veratrum, I do not 
know that the doctor did "know that he knew" 
of its being given, but I know that I told him that 
I gave it. 

Since my release I have learned that Dr. Sapp 
has gained some notoriety by being connected 
with a "spirit telegraph," by which he receives 
messages from those who have passed into the 
future life. If such is the case, without intending 
any covert fling at the many good people who 
believe in spiritualism, but in all sincerity I say 
that I hope his spirit friends will prompt his mem- 
ory, should he ever again be called on to testify in 
a case where a human life is at stake. 

TESTIMONY OF ANNIE FENNER. 

Annie Fenner testified : That on the night of 
the sleigh-ride of January 22 she gave Parquet 
back a ring that he had given her ; that she went 
away from home on a visit before Parquet left her 
father's. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 259 

Answer: I got the party up, as mentioned in 
the answer to Mr. Black's testimony, for my 
brother's benefit, as he wanted to see Miss Fenner 
and learn whether the breaking of the engagement 
was final. That night decided the matter, and my 
brother had no desire to live after that, as he said 
to several persons. 

TESTIMONY OF S. R. BECKWITH, M. D. 

S. R. Beckwith testified: That he examined 
William Parquet for life insurance and made out a 
certificate; that Parquet and Mrs. Victor came to 
his office together; that he had the impression 
that Parquet was going back to the array. 

Answer : There is in the record of testimony a 
good deal said about the date of the life insurance 
policy. I got my brother examined— or rather 
went with him to be examined — as Dr. Beckwith 
testified, and the time was when my brother was 
home on a furlough, which was, I think, in June. 
That is all I know about the date. 

TESTIMONY OF C. C. CARLTON. 

C. C. Carlton testified: That William Parquet 
applied to him in person for life insurance; that he 



260 THE LIFE STORY OF 

did not remember that Parquet applied in person 
for accident insurance, but thought Mrs. Victor 
brought the application; that he went with 
Parquet to see about bounty money; that he 
thought Parquet was discharged from the army 
about August or September of 1865; that Mrs. 
Victor did not go into the house on Webster 
street as a tenant ; that he told her she could have 
the house at the same price he paid for it, and she 
went in on that condition ; that there was no 
price fixed for the rent, and she was considered the 
owner; that she had paid two hundred dollars; 
that, he thought it was after her little boy died, 
she was in a great deal of trouble; that he had 
paid no money for the defense in Mrs. Victor's 
trial. 

Answer : I do not know what Mr. Carlton may 
have thought, but I know that I did not know 
that any application for accident insurance had 
been made by my brother, until Mr. Carlton 
brought the policy, filled out and complete, to me 
at my house. I had heard my brother speak of 
getting such a policy, but knew nothing more. 

I certainly was in a great deal of trouble from 
the death of my little boy, but I can now thank 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 261 

God that my little boy did not live to know the 
trouble that came to his mother later. 

TESTIMONY OF WILLIAM A. KING. 

William A. King testified: That he sat up with 
Parquet the night he died ; that he knew nothing 
of any chloroform being used ; that he gave Par- 
quet medicine; that the medicines were in two kinds 
of powders, and were done up in two forms ; that he 
gave first one, and then the other ; that he admin- 
istered the medicine by pouring it "right from the 
paper, as they generally take homoeopathic medi- 
cine;" that he administered most of the medicine 
given to Parquet from 9 p. m. till 2 a. m., as 
Mrs. Victor "looked hard," and he did not want 
her to get sick; that he wanted Mrs. Victor to 
rest ; that she did lie down on the lounge about 
eleven o'clock, but would get up every time her 
brother moved or tried to say anything; that 
sometimes when Parquet would move, Mrs. 
Victor would lookup from the lounge, and when he 
assured her that Parquet was comfortable, she 
would lie down again; that at 2 a. m. he was 
relieved by Mr. Myers, who had gone to bed in an- 
other room; that he then went down-stairs and 



262 THE LIFE STORY OF 

took some refreshments and went back and lay 
down on the lounge in Parquet's room ; that Mrs. 
Victor told him that Parquet had fallen and hurt 
himself some time before, and often complained of 
a pain in his side ; that he had gone to the pantry 
and eaten a piece of frozen pie, and she thought it 
had brought on inflammation of the stomach, and 
that the two, with another disease he had, had 
caused his death ; that Parquet's last words w^ere, 
" I'm going home. " 

Answer: The candor and straightforwardness 
of Mr. King's testimony must, I think, impress the 
reader that it was given by a mind not so far bur- 
dened with imagination but that it could see things 
as they actually occurred. Neither was he able to 
see chloroform used when there was none in the 
house. Mr. King could see that the powders were 
put up in the usual homoeopathic way, and could 
remember that he administered them in the usual 
way. His sight was not good enough to see any- 
thing mysterious in my actions, yet sufficiently 
good to see that I was worn out by watching, and 
nearly sick. He could even remember, and tell 
without embellishment, just what I said about my 
brother's sickness, and had humanity enough to 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 263 

notice my brother's dying words and keep them in 
his memory over a year. 

I cannot refrain from saying that if more wit- 
nesses in court trials were like Mr. King, there 
would be fewer unjust convictions. 

TESTIMONY OF J. W. THOMAS. 

J. W. Thomas testified : That he was acquainted 
with William Parquet; that he met him at one 
time on a Euclid Avenue street car. At this point 
Mr. Thomas was asked if he knew what Parquet's 
business was on that occasion, and Mr. Jones 
objected. Mr. Palmer explained that he wished 
to show what Parquet's declarations were in re- 
gard to his relations with Miss Fenner, and what 
effect a change in the relations might have had on 
him. The court sustained the objection. 

Answer: Whenever there would be an effort 
made to show that my brother might have died 
from any other cause than arsenic administered by 
my hand, Mr. Jones would object, and Judge Foote 
would sustain the objection. 

It will be seen that I was denied the right to 
refute by circumstances the accusations made 
through circumstances and circumstances only. 



264 THE LIFE STORY OF 

TESTIMONY OF N. MERRILL. 

N. Merrill testified: That he had known Mrs. 
Victor thirty years. Mr. Merrill was then asked 
if he had the means of knowing Mrs. Victor's gen- 
eral conduct and demeanor in the treatment of 
sick persons. Mr. Palmer then explained that as 
the prosecution had endeavored to show an un- 
usual assiduity on the part of Mrs. Victor in at- 
tending on her brother, he wished to show that 
Mrs. Victor was peculiarly noted for her assiduity 
in all cases of sickness. Mr. Jones objected and 
Judge Foote sustained the objection. 

Mr. Palmer then said, "The court will please 
give us the benefit of an objection." 

The court : ' ' Certainly. ' ' 

Mr. Palmer: "We offer three or four witnesses 
on the same point— Mr. Merrill, Mrs. Hunt, Mrs. 
Weily and Mr. Starkey — to prove the same prop- 
osition." 

Answer : Mr. Merrill had, as has been shown in 
previous chapters, known me from childhood. 
Mrs. Hunt and Mrs. Weily were my neighbors, and 
Mr. Starkey was rector of Trinity church. 

Let the reader put himself or herself in my place 
and then give judgment on the court's ruling in the 
matter. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 265 



CHAPTER XIX. 

J. L. Cassels— Something of His Analysis— Quoted Testi- 
mony—Answer—See All the Features— Called by the 
Defense — From the Record— Results of the Analysis — 
Summing It Up— Regarding a Motive— Lose Conscious- 
ness—A Verdict Given— A Fitting Climax— The Sen- 
tence of Death— Different Ideas— My Own Views— 
For Eternity to Solve — Copy of Asylum Record. 

TESTIMONY OF J. L. CASSELS, CHEMIST. 

JL. CASSELS testified: That he analyzed 
© the stomach, heart, liver and spleen of Wil- 
liam Parquet's body and a portion of the earth 
around his coffin; that he found a quantit\- of 
arsenic in the stomach and a "bare trace" in the 
liver, but none in any other part of the body nor in 
the earth; that the amount he found could not 
have been taken seven or eight days before death 
without having been taken up by the other organs 
of the body ; that such an amount as he found in 
the stomach would probably produce death with- 
in twelve hours ; that the symptoms would prob- 



266 THE LIFE STORY OF 

ably first be violent vomiting and pain in the 
stomach, followed by cramping and green and 
bloody stools; that some of the tests he used 
were regarded as infallible, and some more or less 
fallacious ; that by using Marstis tests he did not 
get more than one-third of the disks he might have 
got; that he might have had doubts that what 
he got from the liver was arsenic if he had not 
found arsenic in the stomach ; that he considered 
Marstis test the most reliable of all tests ; that 
the ordinary dose of arsenic was from three to 
eight grains ; that he thought he produced from 
Parquet's body perhaps two grains ; that he only 
used two-thirds of Parquet's stomach in his an- 
alysis ; that had he analyzed the whole stomach 
he would have produced three grains ; that when 
through with his analysis, he had arsenic in the 
form of metallic arsenic, in the form of Scheele's 
green, and in the form of silver, and that he would 
bring the products of his analysis into court; 
that he made the analysis at the instance of Dr. 
Schenck and Prosecuting Attorney Jones, but had 
the greater part of the talk with Jones. 

I quote the following from the record of testi- 
mony : 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 267 

"Q. State whether or not there was sufficient 
arsenic found in his system to produce death. 
Objected to. 

" Q. What did you find in the stomach ? 

"A. I found a considerable quantity — what I 
should regard as a pretty large quantity; I should 
think sufficient to produce death. 

il Q. What are the usual symptoms of arsenical 
poison ? 

"A. They are exceedingly various. There is, 
probably, no one symptom which we can say 
belongs to arsenic poison and no other. 

" 0. What proportion of what was in the 
stomach did your treatment bring forth? 

" A. I should think there must have been — I am 
merely guessing at it — probably between three and 
four grains if I had got the whole that was in the 
stomach, and perhaps more. Had it been my ob- 
ject to obtain the exact amount in the stomach, 1 
should have done so." 

Answer: As is seen, Professor Cassels testified 
that he found no arsenic except in the stomach 
and a bare trace of what he thought was arsenic 
in the liver; also, that the amount he found could 
not have been taken seven or eight days before 






268 THE LIFE STORY OF 

death without having been taken up (and conse- 
quently found in) the other organs. Yet it was 
claimed that my brother had all the symptoms 
of arsenical poisoning from the first; and not 
only that, but, as has been seen by the indictment, 
that on the twenty-sixth of January, '66, and at 
sundry times thereafter up to February 4, '67, 
I had given my brother ten grains of arsenic. 

If the claim of the prosecution was well founded, 
and Professor Cassels' testimony to be relied on, 
can anybody explain what became of the arsenic 
taken up by the " other organs of the body "? 

If the quantity found would produce death 
within twelve, or even twenty-four hours, and the 
symptoms be violent vomiting and pain in the 
stomach, why should my brother have vomited 
with as much violence (which was never great) as 
he did at any time, and had pain in his stomach a 
week before he died ? 

Adding the testimony of Professor Cassels as 
thus far given, to the claim of the prosecution, the 
double inference would be gotten that I deliber- 
ately poisoned my brother with arsenic for a 
whole week or more, and that I poisoned him by 
giving him a dose that produced death within 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 269 

twelve hours or thereabouts. I did not do either; 
but I wish the public to see all the features of the 
case, as far as possible. 

Professor Cassels was afterwards called by the 
defense, and testified as follows : 

"Q. When you was on the stand before, you 
stated you had preserved the results of your ex- 
amination in the matter. Will you produce them 
if you have them here ?" 

The record of testimony then says : 

" The witness here produced several glass tubes 
and a fragment of a plate. There were some 
metallic disks produced by Marshes tests." 

The testimony then continues : 

"Q. Besides what is here, what else have you 
as the results of your examination ? 

"A. That is all I preserved. I got, probably, 
three times, yes, four times as many more of these 
metallic disks than I have here, and pieces of plate, 
but I wanted them for other purposes. 

"Q. Was that all the results of your examina- 
tion? 

" A. There would be, in addition to this, four or 
five times as many of these disks by the process, 
Marshes tests. 



270 THE LIFE STORY OF 

"Q. That would comprise the whole? 

"A. All I got from one-fifth of one-third of the 
stomach. 

"Q. If you had preserved the results of your 
process ? 

"A. Some of these results that I have described 
here I could not preserve, on account of changing 
them into other chemical combinations. 

"Q. The last final form which they assumed— 
when they got through ? 

" A. In that glass tube you w T iil find — 

"Q. Is this all, with the exception of such a 
number of additional disks as you speak of, had 
you preserved the additional number of disks like 
these, that would be the situation of things when 
you finished ? 

''A. Yes, sir. There is one of these tests that I 
used — 

"Mr. Palmer: I did not ask you that. That 
has nothing to do with William Parquet. 

"A. This is it, with the addition of the disks 
I spoke of like it. 

"Q. And what was on this test tube that is 
broken ? 

"Mr. Castle : What preparation is this ? 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 271 

"A. I tested this one, one-third and then I 
made four different tests. 

"Q. I only ask you now what you had left 
when you got through. Is this broken piece of 
glass a piece of this tube which is broken ? 

"A. Yes sir. 

"Q. Would this broken piece of tube, added to 
this tube, make the whole tube before it was 
broken ? 

"A. Yes sir, unless I have lost some bits; but 
I presume not." 

The direct examination of Professor Cassels by 
the defense ends here. 

During the cross-examination by Mr. Jones, Mr. 
Palmer explained to the court as follows : 

"When the direct examination of this witness 
was produced on behalf of the state, he was asked 
if he had the results of the examination that he 
testified to. He said that he would bring them in 
the next day." 

Afterwards, Judge Coffinberry said to the court : 

"We only wanted the professor to bring the re- 
sults of his examination into court— as much as he 
had preserved; and we have simply asked if these 
are the results so far as he has preserved them, and 



272 THE LIFE STORY OF 

if the residue of the results had been preserved r 
how much the whole would have been." 

Upon being asked what part of a grain of arsenic 
he had there with him, Professor Cassels answered : 
"I dislike very much to answer that question, be- 
cause I really don't know." 

When asked what proportion he had there, of 
the three or four grains he had said he found in the 
body, his answer was : 

"I beg to be excused. I did not say there was 
three or four grains in the body. I said there 
might, probably, be that. You asked me what 
proportion of what was in the body I have here- 
I say there is probably, and I say probably (with 
emphasis), there is one-eighth. I don't know. I 
carittell." 

Answer: The reader will please notice that in 
the last question, the prosecutor assumed that 
Professor Cassels had said he found three or four 
grains, when in reality he had said that he found 
" perhaps, two grains; " and that after correcting 
that, Professor Cassels said, "You asked me what 
proportion of what was in the body, I have here," 
when that was not the question that had been 
asked him, and upon that, proceeds to give a wild 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 273 

guess of something that he admits he "don't 
know," and "can't tell." 

By summing up the testimony of Professor Cas- 
sels, it will be observed that so far as the actual 
finding of arsenic in my brother's body was con- 
cerned, the whole substance would be: That he 
said he found "perhaps two grains ; " that he was 
able to produce in court only about one-fourth or 
one-fifth of what he said he got from one-fifth of 
one-third of the stomach, and that he thought the 
amount he had in court, which it will be seen by 
the questioning must have been less than one grain, 
was, probably, one-eighth of a wildly-guessed-at 
amount that might have been in my brother's 
body— and might not. 

First giving the public the assurance that the 
condensations of Professor Cassels' testimony are 
substantially correct and the quotations reliable, 
nothing having been added but the italicizing of 
different portions, I ask an unbiased comparison 
of the latter and a full and fair reading of the 
whole. Then let the decision be made whether or 
not a human being should be condemned to death 
on such testimony. 
In addition to the testimony herein given, there 



274 THE LIFE STORY OF 

was a great amount of evidence produced to show 
a motive for committing the crime I was charged 
with. It was claimed that I had taken real estate 
of my brother's by virtue of the will made to me, but 
as the records show that he had none, that did not 
succeed. As another instance, a Mr. Wilcutt gave 
some testimony tending to show that I must have 
been in straitened circumstances, financially, as 
I had requested him to take back a lot that I had 
bought from him. The whole facts were not 
brought out; but the truth was that I had 
exchanged two lots of which I had doubts of the 
title, for other lots costing two hundred dollars 
more, and had paid the difference. In fact, I had 
not for a number of years known any stringency 
in money matters ; having all I needed and money 
of my own at call. Mr. Wilcutt's testimony does 
not, for some reason, appear in the records to 
which I have access. 

I see upon reading it, that the record of my own 
testimony represents me as making several an- 
swers that I could not, by any possibility, have 
made. I do not know why such misrepresenta- 
tions should have occurred, and will offer no 
opinion in the matter. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 275 

Having passed through the trial up to the time 
the prosecution was making its argument, in a 
state of nervous excitement that may be imagined 
but cannot be described, when Prosecuting At- 
torney Jones began to sum up the features of the 
diabolical farce, which began to take on the ap- 
pearance of a horrible tragedy for me, I lost all 
consciousness of myself and everything around 
me, and never came to a full knowledge of my 
actual existence until I had been many years an 
inmate of the Ohio penitentiary, and awoke only 
to find its grim walls about me, and myself saved 
from the hangman only by the interposition of a 
mightier hand than his. 

I find from the records in the Cleveland court- 
house, and other sources, that the whole travesty 
was carried through up to the final act, when a 
diversion was made and I was sent to the Cleve- 
land Asylum for the Insane. I see that I was 
pronounced guilty of murder in the first degree, 
by "twelve good men and true," on the twenty- 
third day of June, 1868; that I was afterwards 
taken into court, and in a state that warranted 
unconsciousness of my own peril, had sentence of 
death passed upon me by Judge Foote, and August 



276 THE LIFE STORY OF 

20 of the same year fixed as the date for my ex- 
ecution. 

Surely the sentence given by Judge Foote was a 
fitting climax to such inhumanity as had marked 
the whole trial. By it, less than two months of 
life was granted to a person convicted on most 
vague and unreliable circumstantial evidence, and 
helplessly insane besides. 

But, the death warrant was duly made out, and 
I have been told that had it not have been for a 
''lack of nerve " on the part of the sheriff, I would 
have been sent into eternity in the unconscious 
state I was in. I hope, however, that it was the 
silenced voice of humanity speaking at last from 
some heart, that prevented my being hanged. 

In concluding the subject of my brother's death 
and my arrest and trial for his alleged murder, 
I will offer a few ideas in regard to the solution 
of the matter, all of which have been entertained 
at different times and by different persons, and ask 
the public to consider them. . 

First — I will give it full prominence — is the idea 
that I, a sister ten years older than my brother, 
and the mother of four children, also in comfort- 
able circumstances, deliberately mixed arsenic 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 277 

with various things and as deliberately gave it to 
my only brother, stood over him and watched 
his agony without pity or remorse during a whole 
week, but constantly and mercilessly administer- 
ing arsenic — or, taking the other view, gave him a 
large quantity when he was already in a dying 
condition, and all for the small sum of two thou- 
sand dollars. 

Second: That Mr. Newel, being guilty of a 
great crime, and from a remark made by me, fear- 
ing detection at my hands, influenced my sister, 
Mrs. Gray, through her belief that the life insur- 
ance was for her benefit as much as mine, to 
poison our brother, and having furnished her the 
means, succeeded in his designs, thereby securing 
a defense for himself. 

Third : That Mr. Newel, from fear of exposure 
of crime, gave my brother a powder represented 
to be a "love powder," but really arsenic, for the 
purpose of throwing suspicion on me ; or, with a 
recklessness born of guilt, played a practical joke 
on my brother by furnishing him with some nau- 
seous drug, with the same representation, produc- 
ing symptoms that well might have baffled any 
physician not knowing it had been taken, and 



278 THE LIFE STORY OF 

that my brother would not, on account of his 
despondency and the nature of the case, confess 
having taken. 

Fourth : That my brother was taken with dys- 
entery, as others were in the neighborhood, and 
never having been strong and his health having 
been broken by his life in the army, that, with the 
breaking of an abscess resulting from his fall at 
Mr. Fenner's, caused his death. 

To satisfy any desire the reader may have to 
hear an expression of my own views of the differ- 
ent ideas mentioned, I give them frankly as 
follows : 

The first, I know to be utterly false. In regard 
to the second I will say that for many years my 
mind was alternately full of doubt of, and faith in 
my sister's innocence. But I am glad now to be 
able to say that the doubt never at any time over- 
came the faith, and that I never could believe that 
my sister, even erratic and misled as she was, 
would have been guilty of such a crime. All that 
ever led me to" doubt my sister was the allegation 
that a considerable quantity of arsenic had been 
found in my brother's stomach. As soon as light 
began to be thrown on the myster}' of the alleged 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 279 

finding of arsenic in my brothers body, particu- 
larly that given by the Honorable Joseph Perkins' 
letter and contained in Judge Ranney's statement, 
I began to put all doubt of my sister's innocence 
aside. I do not now believe that any arsenic other 
than some infinitesimal quantity that may or may 
not have been there from my brother's having 
taken it himself, either as a tonic, knowingly, or 
mixed with some other drug, ignorantly, was ever 
found in my brother's body. Hence, I believe my 
sister perfectly innocent of all crime. 

Between the third and fourth ideas, my mind 
stands in doubt. Yet, I feel that either the one or 
the other is the true solution of my brother's 
death. Mr. Newel's after course — his undoubted 
efforts to levy blackmail and throw suspicion on 
me, incline me towards the third idea ; but when I 
take into consideration the fact that he might 
have taken the same course as a defense against 
exposure of former crime, and yet not have been 
guilty in regard to my brother, I find it impossible 
to banish the doubt, and so leave the matter for 
eternity to solve. 

I have not so much as the slightest recollection 
of ever having been in the Cleveland asylum, but 



280 THE LIFE STORY OF 

the following, sent to Columbus by request at the 
time of its date, will speak for itself: 

CLEVELAND ASYLUM FOR THE INSANE. 

JAMIN STRONG, M.D., SUPERINTENDENT. 

Cleveland, Ohio, May 26th, 1882. 
Copy of record in the case of Sarah M. Victor. 
Date of admission, July 20th, 1868. 
Age at time of admission, 39 years. 
Duration of attack, 4 weeks. 
Form of insanity, mania. 
Date of discharge, November 20th, 1868. 
Time in the asylum, 4 months. 
Condition at time of discharge, " unimproved." 
Removed to penitentiary by order of governor. 
I hereby certify that the above is copied from the records of 
the Cleveland Asylum for Insane. 

(Signed.) T- Strong, M. D., 

(Seal.) Superintendent C. A. I. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 281 



CHAPTER XX. 

Judge Ranney's Letter — Hon. Joseph Perkins — Queer 
Chemistry— A Deputy Sheriff— A Bank-Book— J. Gas- 
kill — Not Guilty — From Mrs. Gaskill — Always 
Thought He Would— Mrs. L. E. French— Some Crime 
Committed — An Offset— ''Justice" — Remarks — "Dia- 
bolical Efforts" — Eminent Counsel — A She Devil — 
Weighed Sixty Pounds— Passing Sentence— An Omission. 

COPY OF LETTER OF JUDGE RANNEY TO HON. 
GEORGE L. CONVERSE. 

Cleveland, O., February 12, 1876. 
Hon. George L. Converse, Columbus : 

Dear Sir : — I had some knowledge of the prosecution of Mrs. 
Victor, although I was out of the city during a part of the 
trial. 

I had then, and still have doubt of her guilt — the evidence 
was wholly circumstantial, and many of the circumstances 
having most weight in producing a conviction, I then thought 
and still think, might quite as easily have been reconciled with 
her innocence. 

The result evidently turned upon an analysis made by an 
expert long after death, in which evidences of arsenic were sup- 
posed to be found. Many persons have more faith in the 
reliability of this kind of evidence than I have; but 



282 THE LIFE STORY OF 

assuming it to have been found, still it was very far from' 
establishing the fact that she had administered it, as there 
was proof to show the deceased had repeatedly threatened to 
take his own life, and had long been taking medicine for a 
private disease, with which arsenic is customarily mixed. 

In short, while there was enough in the case to raise strong 
suspicions, I think the whole fell short of that moral certainty 
of guilt, which ought to be required to sustain so grave a 
charge. 

If she is not now legally imprisoned, and must be remanded 
to this county for the execution of the death sentence (even if 
it could now be legally done), I thinkthemoral sense of this com- 
munity would revolt at such an outcome, and I see no way out 
of the complication but a pardon. 

Joseph Perkins, Esqr., of this city, a former member of the 
board of state charities, has known much more of her for a few- 
years past than I have, and could give valuable information 
upon the subject. 

Very truly yours, 
(Signed.) .R. P. Ranney. 

The above letter is filed in the governor's office on the appli- 
cation of Mrs. Victor for pardon, by permission of Judge R. P. 
Ranney, the author. 

(Signed.) George L. Converse. 

COPY OF LETTER FROM HON. JOSEPH PERKINS, 
TO GOV. HOAJDLY. 

Cleveland, O hio, November 24, 1884. 
Gov. Hoadly, Columbus, Ohij: 
Dear Sir: — When the National Bank building (cor. Superior 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 283 

and Water streets) was being built, I was chairman of the 
building committee, and as such was looking after the 
work. 

When the contractor was ready for painting, he brought to 
the building a large amount of paint (white lead) from I. H. 
Morlej^'s manufactory. Knowing the amount of adultera- 
tion in this article, I had a sample taken from the */£ 
bar. of paint and sent to Dr. J. Lang Cassels, then professor 
of chemistry in the Cleveland Medical school, for examina- 
tion and analysis. After a few da} r s he sent me a certificate 
of analysis of the sample, showing it to contain such an 
amount of foreign material (barytis) as to condemn the paint. 
I accordingly directed the paint to be returned to the factory 
as unsatisfactory. 

Mr. Morley , on learning the facts, at once came to the building 
and protested against the decision, saj'ing the paint was good 
and he could get a certificate from Professor Cassels to that 
effect. I then took another sample from the same material, 
which was at once taken to Professor Cassels with a request 
that it be analyzed. 

Shortly after, I received a certificate from Professor Cassels 
of the analysis of the sample, showing it to be good and all 
right, with scarcely any foreign material. 

Soon afterwards, when Professor Cassels found he had given 
different analyses of the paint, he called on me to explain, etc., 
but he could only say "the first was a mistake," and he never 
made any other explanation. 

Professor Cassels was the chemist in the case of Mrs. 
Victor. 

Most respectfully, 
(Signed.) Jos. Perkins. 



284 THE LIFE STORY OF 

EXTRACT FROM A LETTER FROM AN EX-DEPUTY 
SHERIFF. 

I knew her intimately through living at the jail. I had no 
connection with the trial except to serve papers on witnesses. 
I accompanied Castle to see Mrs. Victor. He had a bank- 
book of hers and got her to give him an order for the money. 
An argument he used to her was that if she did not sign it over 
to him, the authorities would attach it, so she signed it. If 
there is anything I know that would do her any good, I would 
willingly give it, for I never believed her guilty. 

Remaining as ever your friend, 

J. H. Koehler, 

Allegan, Michigan. 

EXTRACT FROM A LETTER FROM J. GASKILL TO 
REV. I. H. DeBRUIN. 

Mr. Muncie called for my name to petition. I signed readily, 
as my opinion was ever that she was not guilty. She had all 
she needed without taking the life of anyone; besides, she 
loved her brother, and never seemed to have any malice to- 
wards any person whatever. Please give her my most hearty 
sympathy, and hope she may soon be free. 

Respectfully yours, 

J. Gaskill- 

EXTRACT FROM A LETTER WRITTEN BY MRS. S. 
GASKILL. 

September 6, 1887. 
When her sister Libbie came up to Mrs. Victor's house to 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 285 

select what she wanted, by permission, as she said, of the 
sheriff, she took a small wagon load, and the next morning 
came back after the large parlor lamp. I asked her if she was 
the cause of her sister's being arrested for poisoning her brother. 

She said she supposed she was, "but oh, how little I knew 
what would come just by my revengeful words to that 
mayor!" she said. 

" Why, did you have a talk with the mayor ?" I asked. 

"Yes, and that's the way it all started." 

"You must be a bad person at heart," I said. 

"I begin to think so," she said, "but I was mad because I 
didn't get any of the insurance money." 

I then said, "I would die in the streets before I would take 
an article of hers, and she in prison for 3'our sayings." 

"Dear, dear me! Don't say anything more. I want to die" 
(crying and raising her hands). "He probablj" took the 
arsenic himself. I always thought he would, and he did." 

I then asked her why she did not tell the public so. 

"Oh, I can't," she answered ; "they would look on me worse 
than they do now. But one thing I will do; I'll take these 
things and go to Columbus and do all I can to comfort her." 

" Can you ever be a comfort to her ?" I asked. 

"Oh, I don't know," she said, in a low voice, and crying. 

"Oh, go away, and don't live at all — you are too bad to 
live," I said. 

She went, but not to care for her sister. 

(Signed.) Mrs. S. Gaskill. 

EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS TO REV. I. H. DeBRUIN 
FROM MRS. L. E. FRENCH. 

This morning found it raining, but stopped long enough for 



286 THE LIFE STORY OF 

mc to visit Mr. Perkins and Judge Ranney, with whom I had a 
very pleasant and satisfactory conversation. 

Mr. P said, "I do believe the woman is innocent 

and has been suffering a.U these years for nothing. I have 
always doubted if murder was committed at all, and if it was, 
the diabolical effort to keep her there convinces me that guilt 
seeks to keep her out of the way."' He said, " I don't think he 
was murdered, but I do think some crime was committed to 
hold her there where she can't be used as evidence." He said, 
"You see Judge R., and at any time after to-night I am at 
home or here in the office ready to see you and make any sug- 
gestion, or any other aid I can possibly give. I want to do it." 

He said, "I watched the case; I read all the evidence and 
said some things about the rash, unthinking people, in their 
greed for excitement, taking a case and shouting over its guilt, 
when a human life was at stake, and all the evidence based on 
the word of a chemist, and that chemist employed by one side, 
and one whose life was at the mercy of a howling multitude 
ihave no say in the matter." 

The foregoing is copied from papers on file in the 
governor's office at Columbus, Ohio. 

The following communication being anony- 
mous, is not given as having great weight, but is 
published as an offset to one that will be found in 
my prison life during the administration of Gov- 
ernor Bishop, and under the caption of the "Teller 
Letter. ' ' The writer makes some statements in the 
following that he need not have been afraid to 



SARAH M. VICTOR. ■ 287 

follow by his signature; as his words are corrob- 
orated by reputable citizens of Cleveland to-day. 
But he has at least had the honor not to attempt 
to deceive the public by signing a fictitious name, 
as is the case with the Teller letter, and frankly 
says he will not sign his name. 

EXTRACTS FROM A LETTER SIGNED "JUSTICE." 

Boston, Mass., July 21st., 1885. 
Mrs. Victor, Dear Madam: 

I chanced to see your published letter. I was a resident of 
Cleveland at the time of your trouble, and can truly say that 
you was, without doubt, a tool to be used for blackmail. That 

Mart Castle were for years in the blackmailing 

business. Man)- a citizen of C. has had to come down with his 
pile, and they could tell all about it if they would. That Mart 
Castle was the worst scoundrel that ever went unhung. I 
knew him well, and can give many a case where he has taken 
the last cent from some poor widow, under the pretense of be- 
ing her lawyer. 

You was to be the instrument to get money out of Carlton. 

, These men expected, if you were arrested . . . ., that 

Carlton would come up with his money The whole 

matter was an outrage on a poor, defenseless woman, all for 
money. Not a soul had the courage to come up and put a 
protest to this manner of proceeding. When I tell you that . . 
- . . and these other men were living b\' blackmailing the citizens 
•of Cleveland, I will tell vou that it went so far as to have a 



288 THE LIFE STORY OF 

judge on the bench to act with them. This can be proven, for 

he had to acknowledge it 

You can depend on one thing ; that this was a deep laid plot 

for money, and more the shame for Cleveland 

people, knowing the men as they did, to stand about with 

mouths shut, and say not a word in your behalf. I 

for one don't believe you guilty, I never did. I believe it was 
all a damnable plot to get money at the risk of your life, and 
the day will surely come when it will be shown. You "will hear 
from me, but at present I will not sign my name. 

Justice. 

If Justice would come forward and add his 
whole knowledge of the matter, over his own sig- 
nature, it would be much easier to overlook the 
fact that he, too, kept his mouth shut when it was 
a shame to the people of Cleveland. 

I quite agree with the writer of the above in 
regard to the nature of the plot, butl think that the 
results of the plot went far beyond the control of 
the plotters, and that some of them would have been 
glad to have undone their work when it was too 
late. I feel sure in my own mind that had Mr. 
Castle's brain been free from the use of liquor, he 
would have done quite differently than he did in 
my trial. 

As a specimen of the " diabolical efforts " to keep 



SAKAH M. VICTOR. 289 

me in prison, spoken of in the extracts from the 
letters of Mrs. French as coming from the Hon. 
Joseph Perkins, I quote the following from the 
same paper in which the falsehood in regard to the 
death of Miss Fenner appeared : 

The history of Mrs. Victor is substantially as follows : She 
was the oldest daughter of a small dealer in apples known in 
this city thirty years ago as Old Pocket, a corruption of the 
name of Parquette or Parquet. She had a brother William, 
younger than herself, who had been a soldier in the Twelfth 
United States Infantry. The entire family were well known 
to the older inhabitants of the city. She lived for a time not 
very happily with a bogus insurance agent by the name of 
Smith, and when this connection terminated assumed the 
name of Victor. For some years before her arrest she lived in 
a little house on Webster street, and though her character 
was pretty well known, she was an active member of a church 
in the city. Young Victor (?) on his return from the arm}- 
brought home a small sum of money, which he invested at the 
advice of Mrs. Victor. He also effected two small insurance 
policies upon his life in favor of Mrs. Victor. He lived in 
the house with her, and in February, 1S67, was taken ill 
with pains and violent spasms, suffering great anguish and 
after several days of distressing illness, died. Mrs. Victor 
attended constantly upon him, alwa}'S giving him his medicines, 
permitting no one else to interfere, and when he died, quietly 
buried him, without exciting special attention to the case. 

After his death, a quarrel having ensued between Mrs. Victor 
and a younger sister named Mrs. Gray as to the obtaining of 



290 THE LIFE STORY OF 

some bounty money due the father of young Parquet, Mrs. 
Gray let fall before Judge Tilden some remarks which excited 
strong suspicions that her brother had been foully dealt with. 
The public became' alarmed, the neighbors came forward with 
damaging evidence, and finally Dr. Schenck, the coroner, had 
the body of William Parquet disinterred after it had been 
buried eleven months, and the stomach handed over to Pro- 
fessor Cassels for chemical examination. Professor Cassels 
testified that he found large quantities of arsenic in the stom- 
ach and other organs, and the coroner's jury rendered a ver- 
dict, after a careful hearing, that William Parquet came to 
his death by means of poison administered by Sarah M. 
Victor. 

The prosecuting attorney, in his opening speech, said that 
the state could prove, for a motive, that Mrs. Victor had two 
policies of insurance on her brother's life amounting to thirty- 
eight hundred dollars ; that she tried to get the bounty money 
due him; that she schemed with his employer to get his wages; 
that she appropriated after his death all his personal effects ; 
that she resisted his desire to go west; that she claimed to 
have two or three wills made by him, which was false ; that 
she was in needy circumstances at the time of his death ; that 
she had contracts she must fulfill and could not do so without 
some extraordinary resources ; that she let no one know that she 
had received twenty-three hundred dollars on her gambling in- 
surance policies ; that she never left him a moment hardly during 
the seven days of his illness, giving him his medicines always her- 
self; alwaysclaimed that hecould not recover, while no medical 
man had said the case was serious; refused to send for a 
physician when Parquet had spasms, vomitings and violent 
pains; refused to consent to a post-mortem examination and 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 291 

was greatly disturbed lest somebody should disinter the body 
for examination. 

A careful analysis of all the testimony taken in the case leads 
us to the conclusion that Mrs. Victor deliberately, maliciously, 
and with the most systematic premeditation, murdered her 
unsuspecting brother. She was defended with great ability by 
eminent counsel, and Judge Horace Foote, one of the ablest 
jurists that ever adorned the bench in Ohio, presided at the 
trial and expressed himself satisfied with the verdict, and sen- 
tenced Mrs. Victor, after a verdict of guilty from the jury, to 
be hung. Her sentence was subsequently commuted by the 
governor to imprisonment for life, so much sympathy being 
given her on account of her sex. There was no shadow of 
reason for believing Mrs. Victor insane at the time she com- 
mitted the crime. Her brother was a mere tool in her hands- 
She insured his life and brought him to her house in health. 
He was taken suddenly ill. She watched over him with the^ 
tenderest solicitude. She permitted no one to cook any food 
for him except herself. She administered to him all his medi- 
cines. She allowed no one to interfere between her and her 
innocent victim. She held his head in his fearful spasms of 
pain and vomiting, brought on b} r the poison she administered. 
She encouraged him, embraced him, soothed him, gave 
him, with sleepless devotion, his medicines, and with more 
than a mother's solicitude hovered over his dying bed, and, 
with the softness of apparent affection, gave him a world of 
pity, compassion and S}'mpathy. Yet all this time she was a 
vampire and harpy; that with cold-blooded calmness and 
fiendish atrocity measured out to him his sufferings, and calcu. 
lated to a hair his powers of endurance and the value of his 
death in money. 



292 THE LIFE STORY OF 

The case needs no exaggeration. A simple recital of the 
crime, under such circumstances, almost curdles the blood with 
horror. Here was murder with every aggravating circum- 
stance. Here was a crime against nature, against woman- 
hood, heartless, pitiless, remorseless. We find in a careful 
review of the case nothing to excuse, extenuate or soften the 
deed. Her guilt was made apparent beyond a reasonable 
doubt ; her trial was fair, impartial and humane ; her convic- 
tion warranted every principle of law. To pardon her is to 
put a premium on murder, and restore a she-devil to prey 
again upon society. 

I find the following in the Cleveland Plain 
Dealer : 

On Friday, July 3rd, at 2 p. m., she was carried into the court- 
room a mere skeleton. When she was arrested she weighed 
one hundred and thirty pounds, but on the day of her sentence 
her weight, clothing and all, was sixty pounds. She had in 
her hand a palm-leaf fan to the handle of which was tied, with 
a string, a piece of orange-rind, with which she played. With 
a low voice she sang, " There is rest for the weary, there is rest 
for you." The Judge asked if she had anything to say why 
sentence should not be passed upon her, but she paid no atten- 
tion to him. Thereupon Judge Foote sentenced her to be 
hanged by the neck until dead, on August 20, between the 
hours of 10 a. m., and 1 p. m., adding; "And may God have 
mere}" on you." 

I have been told by those present at the time, 
that Judge Foote omitted the invocation for 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 293 

mercy, and, doubtless, the reporter added it for 
the sake of appearances. The omission was, prob- 
ably, the result of perturbation, though, and was 
of little consequence, as God's mercy was already 
very apparent in my condition. 



294 THE LIFE STORY OF 



CHAPTER XXI. 

No III Feeling— Stubborn Wills— Hard Life of Prison 
Officials— First Thoughts that Came— Looking in a 
Mirror — Hallucination — The Soul of Kindness — Break- 
ing a Knife— Crept Under the Bed— General Walcutt 
— Colonel Burr — Colonel Innis — Paralysis — Near 
Death— Buckwheat Cakes— Would Never Die There 
—Penitentiary Wedding— Annie McFarland — A Fire in 
the Prison— A Nurse's Devotion. 

IN telling of ray prison life, to be true to the facts 
I shall have to be personal in many instances, 
but it will be with no desire to vent hatred or ill- 
feeling towards any one ever connected with the in- 
stitution in which I was incarcerated. I long ago 
conquered and put out of my mind all bitter and 
resentful thoughts in connection with those who 
treated me unkindly during my life in prison, but 
there are some things existing at times in the Ohio 
penitentiary, and, I presume, in all prisons, that I 
think ought not to be passed over silently. 

So far as I was myself concerned, I was given 
little cause for complaint, compared with that of 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 295 

all others during the whole time of my imprison- 
ment. I was so fortunate as to be committed dur- 
ing the reign of an unusually humane matron, who 
at the outset established a precedent in my case 
that was seldom ignored by succeeding officials, 
and, with one exception, never for any considerable 
length of time. I was given more freedom and 
consideration at all times than any other prisoner, 
without exception, and no one could have been 
treated with greater courtesy than I was during 
the later years of my stay there. Yet, my exemp- 
tion from many of the ills of prison life did not 
blind me to the often unjust and sometimes cruel 
treatment of others. 

That there must be some method by which re- 
fractory prisoners can be made to submit to the 
established rules, nobody can understand so well 
as one who has studied the various misguided and 
stubborn wills that are found in a prison. But, 
with the conviction that rigid discipline is neces- 
sary comes a sense of the necessity that all modes 
of punishment should first be duly considered, and 
when adopted, applied to those who have reallv 
transgressed, and not to those who have not. 
Another conviction that will force itself upon 



296 THE LIFE STORY OF 

the mind in such a place, is that the modes of pun- 
ishment should be graded to the degrees of trans- 
gression, and so well established as to leave little 
to the discretion of officials or attendants who 
may, from inexperience or a natural cruelty of dis- 
position, abuse the authority given them. 

No mind, however low by nature or warped by 
unfavorable circumstances, will submit to injustice 
patiently ; and of all the many instances of resist- 
ance to authority, of quarrels, fights and beatings 
of matrons, that I witnessed while in the peniten- 
tiary, fully one-half had their source in censure or 
punishment wrongfully given. 

The position of matron in the women's depart- 
ment is a hard one to hold long creditably, for when 
once a matron is overpowered by a prisoner or 
censured by the warden, she is considered disgraced, 
and her usefulness — usually her reign also — in the 
department is over. So, it would seem that great 
care should be taken to put none but able persons 
in the place ; yet, I have known matrons to practice 
improprieties, cruelties and petty meannesses that 
many of the prisoners would scorn to be guilty of. 

The life of a prison official or attendant is full of 
difficulties and hard at the best, but it would not 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 297 

take an impartial observer long to discover that 
the life of a prisoner is still harder, and that the 
removal of burdens from the latter often makes the 
former less arduous. My own observation and 
experience have shown me that kindness — not 
indulgence, but considerate kindness — is the only 
effectual remedy for lessening the ills of prison life. 
It has been conceded that reformation should be 
the object of imprisonment, and no reformation 
will ever follow anything but kind treatment. 

The record in the Ohio penitentiary shows that 
I was received into that institution on my dis- 
charge from the Cleveland asylum; but I have 
absolutely no recollection of the occurrence, and 
but a vague and dream-like remembrance of any- 
thing that occurred during a space of nearly seven 
years thereafter. Yet, with the help of recitals and 
explanations made to me by officials and prisoners 
since my restoration to reason, I will endeavor to 
give some glimpses of my life at that time. 

The first thoughts that came to me after the en- 
tire blank in my mind were that I had died in 
Cleveland and come to life in Columbus — or rather, 
where I was ; I did not know that it was Colum- 
bus — and when new prisoners or other people 



298 THE LIFE STORY OF 

would come to our department, I would ask them 
if they, too, had died before coming. I could not 
place myself, but imagined that I was some other 
person. 

It seemed to me at times that I had a dual being* 
and the first time I looked in a mirror I became 
much excited, and persisted in the assertion that 
some other face would constantly intrude between, 
mine and the glass. For a long time I was under 
the singular hallucination that as soon as I should 
recover from the ill-defined something that I was 
conscious of laboring under, my little boy would 
be restored to me ; and when any candy, nuts or 
any similar thing would be brought to the prison, 
I would save the portion given to me, and put it 
away for him. 

Whenever any of the other prisoners would be 
locked in the dungeon for misconduct, instructions 
would be given to keep the knowledge from me;. 
as I would neither eat nor sleep until the matron 
had interceded for their liberation. 

The discipline of the prison was very strict at 
that time, the prisoners not being allowed to speak 
to each other ; but as my mind was in such a feeble 
state, an exception was made in my case. All were 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 299 

allowed to talk to me, and many times the other 
women would gather around and get information 
from each other while ostensibly speaking to me 
thus escaping punishment. 

I must have been very simple and harmless, and 
my impression is that, with one or two exceptions, 
everybody was very kind to me. One of the 
assistant matrons was very unkind in some ways. 
She used to enjoy irritating me by taking away 
flowers that were given me, and hiding my dolls, 
to which I was much attached. I have since 
learned that those little persecutions were indulged 
in for the purpose of wounding the principal 
matron, who was the soul of kindness, and would 
rather suffer harm herself than have it come to a 
helpless one in her charge. 

Mrs. L. V. DeSellem was principal matron at 
that time, and some idea of the tender oversight 
that enabled me to live through those dark years 
of mental weakness and rigid prison rules may be 
gotten from the following little incident : 

One day some of the "girls," as the prisoners are 
usually called, were given permission to go out in 
the yard to set out some peach trees, and with the 
kindness they always showed me, got consent to 



300 THE EIFE STORY OF 

take me with them. They took a large carving 
knife along with which to trim off branches, and, 
thinking to do as they did, I took it up, and on 
striking it into one of the trees, broke a large piece 
off from the blade. 

When any accident happens in a prison, the first 
thought is of punishment ; and immediately one 
of the women said, "Now you'll be put in the dun- 
geon ! "and then told me to throw the knife away. 

I would not do that, but took up the piece and, 
like a child, tried to replace it. I can even now 
vaguely recall the perturbation that came to 
me when I found that the piece would not adhere 
to the blade. I was very much frightened, and on 
going back into the prison I went to my cot and 
crept under it, which, I have been told, was my 
custom when in trouble. 

When the matron heard of the mishap, instead 
of passing the matter over in the haste and deris- 
ion that might have been expected, she thought 
of the poor, weak brain suffering from an un- 
founded fear, and came and coaxed me out of my 
retreat, and quieted my mind by telling me she 
was not sorry the knife had been broken, as she 
wanted a better one. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 301 

When Mrs. DeSellem would have occasion to 
leave the prison or department for some little 
time, fearing some mishap would befall me if I 
left my room during her absence, she would put 
me in my bed and get me to promise not to leave 
it until her return. So great control did her kind- 
ness have over me, that I would never break a 
promise thus made, but would keep my bed even 
though the time seemed so long that I would cry 
because she did not come. Her absences were 
often in my behalf, she even having to go to the 
board of directors to get permission to allow me 
sufficient clothing to protect me from danger of 
death by the change. Each prisoner is allowed a 
certain amount of clothing, which amount is very 
limited and simple, and as the winter was at hand 
when I was sent to Columbus, Mrs. DeSellem felt 
sure I would never survive it if robbed of my cus- 
tomary clothing. As before said, she was obliged 
to go to the board of directors for so simple a 
privilege, but she went, and succeeded in her mis- 
sion. 

I have no well-defined recollection of Mrs. De- 
Sellem as matron, but her kindness to me after I 
regained my reason, when she came to me as a 



302 THE LIFE STORY OF 

visitor and friend, and kept up her efforts for my 
release through long, doubtful years, warrants 
me in saying that the recitals given me of her 
pity and tenderness when I was yet more helpless 
have not been overdrawn. 

General Walcutt was warden when I was re- 
ceived at the penitentiary, but I have no memory 
of him as warden. I knew him as connected with 
the prison in after years, but of his wardenship I 
•can give no account. 

Colonel Burr came next, and I find my memory 
the same blank in regard to him. Yet, I have 
been told so much of him and his family that I 
know they have been held in kindly remembrance 
by all the prisoners of that time. It was Colonel 
Burr, I believe, who so far civilized the place as to 
furnjsh earthen table dishes for the convicts. 

Colonel G. S. Innis succeeded Colonel Burr, in 
1874, and it was under his administration that 
I came to a full realization that I was a life con- 
vict in a prison. 

As I was wakeful of nights, and possessed of 
great zeal to help the needy, by piecing quilts, etc. 
(see statement of Mrs. James Taylor), I was per- 
mitted to sit beside the heater and sew, after the 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 303 

other prisoners had been locked up ; and one night 
as I arose from my chair my right limb seemed 
suddenly to go through the floor. That is all the 
sensation that I remember of having, and I must 
have then lost consciousness; for the "runner," 
one who does various duties about the prison, 
reported, as I was afterwards told, that she saw 
me rolling on the floor, and thought I was amus- 
ing myself. I got to my room in some way, and 
the next morning was vaguely conscious that there 
was some change in my condition. 

One morning some little time afterwards, as I 
was walking across the room, I fell to the floor in- 
sensible, and one of the prisoners ran to the matron 
and told her that I had fallen dead. Both matron 
and prisoners thought that such was the case— or 
rather, that my life would be of but a few hours' 
duration— but they all gave me the best of care, 
and some days afterwards I awoke to conscious- 
ness, and found that my right side was paralyzed 
and I could not speak. 

I could take no solid food, and my condition was 
such that not the slightest belief that I could 
recover was entertained by anyone in the prison. 
Dr. Halderman attended me, and I remember that 



304 THE LIFE STORY OF 

I thought him very kind. He would try to restore 
my speech by having me sound on different letters, 
and did everything possible for me. 

But, with all the care, I was at last thought to 
be dying, and I thought the same myself. The 
clothes in which I was to be dressed after death 
were all prepared, and the doctors were ready 
to dissect my body. I expressed a wish to have 
Dr. Halderman claim the privilege of examining 
me after death, which I afterwards found had 
caused my friends much sorrow, as they wanted 
to get a pardon for me and let me die a free woman 
and have a Christian burial. But I did not die. 

How long I remained in that state, between life 
and death, I cannot tell, but I remember that a 
large room was fitted up for my occupancy, and a 
nurse specially detailed to wait upon me. I know 
that I was worse and better alternately, that Mrs. 
Taylor, Mrs. DeSellem and others were with me at 
times, and that the warden would come to my 
room himself to make sure that I was properly 
cared for. But, above all other things, I recall the 
slow but sure coming of the blighting conscious- 
ness that I was a convict and among convicts. I 
will not dwell upon that theme, for even now 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 305 

thoughts of it revive the misery of those days. 
The reader will not wonder that my recovery was 
slow. 

My nurse cooked my meals, and everything that 
I wanted in the way of food was furnished me. 
Many times the warden would bring something 
from his own table, and one day he asked me if I 
would like some buckwheat cakes. I told him that 
I would, and he promised to send some the next 
morning. When breakfast time came, I looked 
anxiously for the cakes, but none came. Towards 
evening the warden came to see how I was, as he 
usually did when any prisoner was sick, and asked 
how I enjoyed the cakes. I told him that I 
thought it was too bad of him to fool me so, sup- 
posing that something had caused him to forget 
about it. 

" Didn't you get them ?" he asked, and then said, 
"I brought them to the gate myself. There was a 
dozen of them, and I knew you would not want 
so many, so I told them to give some to Johnson. " 

The secret was out. "Johnson" was a female 
prisoner, notwithstanding the style of mention, 
and sogreat had been the craving for a change from 
prison diet, that the cakes had disappeared before 



306 THE LIFE STORY OF 

any reached me. The colonel then sent a sack of 
the flour, that my nurse might make some for me, 
and many a prisoner got a cake out of it. 

The physicians, as well as Colonel Innis, were 
very considerate, and the matron, Miss Earhart, 
looked after my welfare in a way that will never 
be forgotten, and for which she has ever since had 
my deepest gratitude. I was so bad at times, that 
many would think I could not live, but one day I 
heard Colonel Innis say that although he had him- 
self closed my eyes thinking me dead, I would never 
die in that place; that he believed me innocent, and 
I would yet be free. 

It was during Colonel Innis' administration 
that the great Ohio penitentiary wedding oc- 
curred. The bride was my nurse, Annie McFar- 
land. The groom was also a prisoner, and they 
were engaged before they came, both coming at 
the same time and under the same length of sen- 
tence. He had lost some time by misconduct, and 
unless the warden and board of directors would 
take off the time lost, he could not leave the prison 
when she did. So, great effort was made to have 
that done, and as he promised to do right and be 
kind to Annie, the directors agreed to release him 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 307 

if he would marry her there in the prison. He 
was only too glad to do that, and so the warden 
gave notice that there would be a wedding in the 
penitentiary. 

Great excitement prevailed from that time till 
the wedding occurred. I think some three hun- 
dred tickets were issued. Members of the legisla- 
ture and many others from the city attended. A 
lady in Boston sent the bride a complete bridal 
outfit, but the prison guards concluded that the 
bride's dress should be white, and white it was. 

After the ceremony, in shaking hands with the 
bride, many gave her money, and when she came 
to me with her husband to say good-bye, she had 
about fifty dollars. She was free and happy, and 
I gave her some quilts and other presents, and 
wished her success. 

Annie was an impulsive, kind-hearted girl, and 
I became very much attached to her while she 
nursed me. She could not have been more kind to 
her own mother than she always was to me. 

I shall never forget an incident— which came 
near being a calamity — that occurred while she 
was with me, and which, though it caused me no 
little trepidation, proved her devotion to me. 



308 THE LIFE STORY OF 

My room was next to a dry-room, and as my 
door was not locked, we usually kept it open. 
One night, between ten and eleven o'clock, a line- 
ful of clothes caught fire from a gas-jet in the dry- 
room, and seeing the fire, I woke Annie up to give 
the alarm and put the fire out if she could. I was 
still utterly helpless from paralysis, and Annie's 
first thought was to save me, and in saving me 
from the fire, to give me my liberty. She insisted 
on taking me up and carrying me down-stairs, 
and letting the prison burn down; as, she said, 
there would then be no place to keep me. 

I cannot help smiling, now, when I think of how 
much faith she had in her project, and that with 
so much as a motion of assent from me, she would 
have undertaken to carry it out. But she obeyed 
me, and the fire was quenched before it had done 
much damage. 

Poor Annie ! I afterwards learned that her hus- 
band soon deserted her and left her to die alone 
and uncared for. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 309 



CHAPTER XXII. 

Preferred Hanging— Examining a Bed— Such is Prison Life 
—Habeas Corpus— Hon. Geo. L. Converse— Judge Bing- 
ham— Decision Reversed— Captain Groves— Governor 
Allen — "Loose Talk"— Woman at Fremont— Mrs. 
Hayes— "A Wicked Lie"— Mrs. Groves— The Rule of 
Silence— How It was Broken— A Matron Beaten — At 
the Hands of a Man — Warden McWhorter — Some 
Threats. 

DURING Colonel Innis' reign, having come to 
a full sense of the fate that seemed to me 
worse than death, I sent word to Governor Hayes, 
who was again in that office, that I would rather 
be hanged than suffer life imprisonment. He 
thought I must be insane, and sent two physicians 
to examine my head. Their coming caused quite 
a sensation, and no little discomfort to me. 

When the matron was told by the doctors what 
they were coming for, she misunderstood the in- 
formation, and thought they were going to exam- 
ine my bed. After they had gone, she came to my 
room greatly irritated, and wanted to know why 



310 THE EIFE STORY OF 

I had complained about my bed, arid what was 
the matter with it. I told her I had made no 
complaint, and that my bed had not been men- 
tioned. But, being vexed by having been reported, 
as she thought, and consequently unreasonable, 
she treated my word as of no account, and had 
me removed to a lounge while my bed could be 
inspected. She afterwards learned her mistake, 
and as she was very kind usually, and I knew the 
difficulties of her position, I could overlook her 
haste; but I did not recover from the shock to 
mind and body for many days. Such is prison 
life. 

The physicians did not find me insane, and soon 
after, proceedings were commenced to get me 
released on a writ of habeas corpus, as the fol- 
lowing, cut from a Columbus paper of that date, 
will show: 

Mrs. L. V. DeSellem was matron of the penitentiary when 
Mrs. Victor was admitted. Mrs. DeSellem, from that date, 
became deeply interested in Mrs. Victor's case. 

After a long series of attempts to get Mrs. Victor out of 
prison, Mrs. DeSellem seems likety to succeed. Harper Fritchey, 
a 3'oung lawyer of this city, has been at work on the case for 
some time, and is anxious to proceed with it, believing that he 
has good legal grounds for bringing the woman forth from her 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 311 

sentence to solitary confinement, on a writ of habeas corpus 
on the ground that the law requires that the prisoner shall 
accept commutation from one sentence to another, and that 
in Mrs. Victor's case sentence was passed and commutation 
made without her knowledge, she being insane at the time. 

A strong effort has been made by Mrs. DeSellem to get Hon. 
Geo. L. Converse to take hold of the case, and thus secure his 
well-known legal force in carrying out the work begun by Mr. 
Fritchey. 

Mrs. DeSellem succeeded in getting Hon. George 
L. Converse to act in the matter, as will be seen by 
the following : 

The hearing on the habeas corpus in the case of Mrs. Sarah 
M. Victor was before Judge Bingham in room No. 2 last even- 
ing at half past seven o'clock. The hour set for trial was seven 
o'clock, but from a misunderstanding of the time, the court did 
not open till half an hour later. Mrs. Victor was not brought 
to the court-room, but by common consent was represented by 
her attorneys, Hon. George L- Converse and Mr. Harper 
Fritchey. Attorney-General John M. Little was present as 
attorney for the state. Warden G. S. Innis and Deputy Warden 
Dean were also present. Mrs. Victor's attorneys base their 
claim for the writ upon the fact, as alleged, that the person of 
Mrs. Sarah M. Victor is forcibly retained, and she is deprived 
of her liberty illegally by G. S. Innis. They claim, first, there 
is a lack of compliance with the statute in not furnishing the 
original papers from the court in which the prisoner was tried 
and sentenced, and the order of commutation from the gov- 
ernor, instead of the copies, as they were claimed to be, which 



312 THE LIFE STORY OF 

were filed with the court by Warden Innis. Secondly : Mr. 
Converse argued that the governor has no power to set aside 
the verdict of a court and commute a sentence issued thereby ? 
only on condition of the consent and acceptance of the defend- 
ant* He read passages of the statute bearing upon the sub- 
ject of reprieves and commutation to substantiate his position. 

Attorney-General Little had not examined the papers ; wanted 
time to do so, or to make the necessary amendments, and to 
secure the requisite testimony as to their correctness. He cited 
sections of the statute to prove the pardoning power of the 
governor, and argued that the power of commutation is inci- 
dental to this power. Mr. Converse argued the injustice and 
absurdity of vesting power in any one man to annul the sen- 
tence of a court, and to subject a prisoner to his caprices and 
whims regardless of the interests or the wishes of the party in 
custody. 

After hearing the arguments upon the question, the court 
adjourned for one week from last night, to consider before ren- 
dering decision upon it, and to give the attorney-general time 
to look over the original papers, to perfect those filed with the 
court, and to secure evidence to prove them exact copies of the 
originals. 

The evidence that the attorney-general was able 
to offer was probably not satisfactory; for the 
writ of habeas corpus was granted by Judge 
Bingham, and some difficulties arising thereon will 
be found in the statement of Mrs. L. V. DeSellem, 
in another chapter. 

Judge Bingham held that : 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 313 

"The prisoner never having accepted the com- 
mutation, she was retained in the penitentiary 
without warrant of law, but that she was not 
entitled to be set at liberty, because she was 'in 
law an escaped prisoner after conviction/ And 
thereupon the court ordered that she be discharged 
from confinement in the penitentiary, and that 
'she be delivered to the sheriff of Cuyahoga county 
to be further dealt with by the court of common 
pleas of that county according to law.'" 

"To reverse this judgment a petition in error 
was filed in the supreme court by the warden of 
the penitentiary . In delivering the opinion of the 
supreme court, Chief-justice Welch said : ' The only 
question involved in the case is whether the pris- 
oner's acceptance of the commutation is essential 
to its validity. Or, to state the question more 
generally, has the governor of Ohio, under our 
present constitution and laws, power to commute 
the sentence of a lunatic without her consent? We 
have no hesitation in answering this question in 
the affirmative.' Judgment was reversed, and 
the prisoner remanded to the warden of the 
penitentiary." 

The proceedings had dragged on until Colonel 



314 THE LIFE STORY OF 

Innis' term had expired, and Captain Groves had 
taken his place. It was the latter who filed the 
petition in error, and not Colonel Innis. 

Before the proceedings above spoken of were 
commenced, efforts had been made to secure a 
pardon for me, but the opposition that was shown 
at Cleveland, aided as it had been by R. B. Hayes, 
had defeated all attempts in that direction, and 
without doubt was the cause of the petition in 
error being filed, whether the warden knew that he 
was being used as a tool for a murderer and his 
blackmailing accomplices or not. 

I have been told that Governor Allen said at one 
time that he would have pardoned me had my 
petition been before him. But, my friends had a 
hidden foe to deal with, who, with the aid of 
friends who furnished influence and, doubtless, 
money for printer's ink, was able to summon 
public opinion against them, and it is not surpris- 
ing that they should have missed one possible 
opportunity, if any they did miss. 

But of R. B. Hayes' course and intentions there 
can be no doubt. Mrs. M. E. Griffith, then doing 
temperance work in Ohio, and since organizer of 
the W. C. T. U. in Kansas, went to him in my 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 315 

behalf, and lie told her that if she could bring 
good evidence from Cleveland, he would look fav- 
orably on granting a pardon. Mrs. Griffith went 
to Cleveland and procured a great amount of con- 
vincing evidence (see statement of M. H. Pettit), 
but upon returning to Governor Hayes and re- 
minding him of his encouragement, was told, 
"Oh, that was loose talk." 

Mr. Hayes in some way got, or professed to have 
got the idea that I was a woman who had once kept 
a disreputable house in Fremont (consequently I 
must be guilty of murder, I suppose), and that 
idea he seemed determined to keep. I tried in 
every way to get him to convince himself of his 
error, by coming himself to see me, or sending 
someone who knew the woman at Fremont. 
Mr. June, of Fremont, at one time one of the 
prison directors, told me that he went to Mr. 
Hayes and told him I was not the woman who 
had once lived in that city, and that it could be 
proven ; but he said that Mr. Hayes would not be 
convinced, and only joked insultingly over the 
matter. I have been told that the now ex-Pres- 
ident said repeatedly that I should neither be 
"hung nor pardoned, if he could prevent it. 



316 THE LIFE STORY OF 

As Mrs. Hayes bore the name of being a just, 
upright woman, a lady who came to the prison to 
see me volunteered to go to her, and a letter from 
the lady says that when she made a certain asser- 
tion as coming from me, the answer was that it 
was nothing but a wicked lie, gotten up by me, to 
shield myself, and that it would be found that 
that was all any of my stories amounted to. 
Also, that she (the lady) meant well, but was 
wonderfully deceived. 

I do not know in what form the lady gave the 
assertion, whether correctly or incorrectly, and 
consequently cannot say whether or not Mrs. 
Hayes was justified in saying it was a lie; but I 
know that she was not justified in saying that all 
my stories were false, if she did say so ; and as to 
being deceived, perhaps some of the statements 
published herein, and signed by quite as reputable 
persons as the ex-President's wife, will show what 
those who have known and watched over me, 
think. 

All suspicions of my identity with the woman at 
Fremont, even allowing that such a thing should 
have had any influence in a case of alleged murder, 
and much doubt in many other things could have 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 317 

been done away with by just one visit to the 
prison. But that one visit was never made, and, 
consequently, all I can say of Mr. and Mrs. Hayes 
is that I was innocent, "sick and in prison," and 
they did not visit me. 

As a matter of course, I did not like Captain 
Groves, but I was not alone in my dislike. Com- 
ing, as he did, after a warden whose kindness had 
taken such hold on the prisoners, and being more 
severe in many ways and a much poorer provider, 
he was not generally as well liked as Colonel 
Innis. 

Before Colonel Innis came into office, the knives 
had all been taken from the female department, to 
prevent some refractory prisoners from cutting 
each other, which they had done, in a terrible man- 
ner, at times, but, although Colonel Innis had the 
same bad prisoners to deal with, he restored the 
knives, put gas in the rooms— another thing 
thought dangerous— and did many other things 
that brought him the respect and gratitude of 
those under him. The common expression used of 
Colonel Innis was "God bless him," and for my 
part, I believe that I would have been free long 
before I was, could he have opened those prison 



318 THE LIFE STORY OF 

doors for me. He was glad when I was at last 
freed, signing the papers with others, to see that I 
was cared for. 

But the dislike I felt for Captain Groves was 
more than made up for in the love and respect I 
had for his wife. Many hours of distracting 
thoughts of myself and my troubles, she saved me 
by her company. She would bring me material to 
work with, and sit by me for hours and keep my 
mind from dwelling on the injustice that had been 
done me. 

After Captain Groves* term expired, he used to 
come back occasionally and bring his wife with 
him. I did not like to meet her and not be able to 
feel right towards her husband, and on thinking 
the matter over, I came to the conclusion that 
perhaps some influence that I did not know of had 
deceived him and given him doubts in regard to 
the results in case the habeas corpus decision was 
allowed to stand. I then banished my ill-feeling 
towards him, and one day, when he was at the 
prison, I told him I had done so. 

He took my hand cordially, and complimented 
me by saying to those with him, "Mrs. Victor 
hasn't a deceitful hair in her head. She speaks 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 319 

out just what she feels, and you can depend on 
her." 

I never could retain ill-will towards any person, 
and my mind was much relieved after that inter- 
view. 

Capt. Groves was unfortunate enough to choose 
a matron who thought everything would bend to 
her will, and the consequence was that the female 
department was in a state of rebellion a good 
part of the time that she remained. The matron 
reestablished the rule of silence on the part of the 
inmates, and would report a prisoner on the 
slightest provocation. But her course brought her 
to grief at last. 

One of the women was subject to peculiar spells 
of indisposition, which, though in no way danger- 
ous, made it necessary to give her more privileges 
while they lasted than usual. The matron ignored 
that fact, and threatened to report the woman — 
or girl, as she was — for an act that could not be 
avoided. I knew, from a long experience with the 
girl's disposition, that the matron was only invit- 
ing her own defeat, by such unjust and senseless 
actions, but as I did not wish to disobey the rules, 
I was powerless to avert the trouble that I knew 



320 THE LIFE STORY OF 

was coming. I was partially helpless, having to* 
use a crutch for years after I became able to stand, 
and all the inmates were very kind to me, and 
would' take any advice I gave them. I knew that 
if I could speak to the girl, I could show her the 
folly of resisting the matron, and persuade her to 
speak to the physician and have him give a special 
order in her case. 

But, silence was the order of the time, and it was 
broken only by the appalling screams of the matron 
for help. At locking up time, she came flying down 
the stairs from the floor on which the girl's cell 
was, her hair hanging down her back, her face con- 
tused, and shrieking at the top of her voice for 
somebody to call the deputy warden. The girl 
had fallen upon her at the cell door, and beaten 
her terribly. 

I do not write this as a justification for the beat- 
ing of matrons, for sometimes good, kind-hearted 
women are attacked by inmates; but it must be 
remembered that a " report" usually means a ter- 
rible punishment, for a woman, also, and that at 
the hands of a man, and sometimes a very cruel 
one, besides. In the case I have spoken of, there 
had not been so much as the slightest provocation. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 321 

for a report, and one little word of kindness, one 
inquiry as to the girl's needs, on the part of the 
matron, would have turned the hands that beat 
her into helps towards lightening her own duties. 
The girl was, of course, punished, but the matron 
was discharged. 

Mr. J. B. McWhorter was the next warden, but 
he did not serve his term out. He was well liked 
while he remained, and his wife and family were, 
also. 

Matrons came and went at different times so 
often that I mention some of them only as some 
incident recalls the actors in it. Somewhere about 
the time of Mr. McWhorter's reign, I remember of 
there being a matron whose chief threat held over 
the prisoners was that if any of them sanctioned 
any charge made against her, she would see that 
they were never pardoned; claiming, also, that 
she had great influence with the pardoning power 
at the time . 

Such a threat may seem of little importance, but 
it is one that causes many abuses to exist in a 
prison, that would otherwise be exposed and 
done away with. Many prisoners would stoutly 
maintain that black was white, or white, black, 



322 THE LIFE STORY OF 

as the case might demand, if by doing so they 
could save themselves so much as a month of 
bondage, so highly prized is liberty; and with a 
few such helps an official or attendant may do 
many things that would not be allowed by those 
higher in authority, if known to exist. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 323 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

Warden Dyer— The "Humming-bird"— By the Order of 
a Woman— Roughly Handled— Facts, No Fiction— Sol- 
itary Confinement — ' ' Suckers ' '—A Note — Investiga- 
tion—Released—One Just Woman — Governor Bishop 
—Some Ladies— Teller Letter—" In Confidence "—For 
Twenty Years— Blood-curdling — Lacked Courage — 
The Pardoning Governor — Only Regret — When It is 
Too Late. 

MR. B. F. DYER was Mr. McWhorter's suc- 
cessor. Mr. Dyer was a seemingly kind- 
hearted man, and Mrs. Dyer was a good, domestic 
woman, whom none could complain of; but I 
have cause to remember the matron of that time 
with some sorrow, more for. her, as I now look a<t 
the matter, than myself. 

The matron under Mr. Dyer — perhaps I should 
say over him, for it was sometimes difficult to tell 
which held the reins of government— was, like one 
of whom I have previously spoken, very self-willed, 
and seemed entirely devoid of feeling for the pris- 
oners. If she wanted a person punished, and the 



324 THE LIFE STORY OF 

warden objected, she would manage to circumvent 
him, and have the punishment inflicted. 

One poor girl was sick and could not work, but 
the matron made no allowance for that, and re- 
ported her, having her punished with the "hum- 
ming-bird," an inhuman mode of punishment then 
in use, but since abolished. To give the reader an 
idea of what the girl was subjected to, weak and 
ill as she was, I give the following description of 
the "humming-bird," taken from a little book on 
life in the Ohio penitentiary : 

The offender was placed blindfolded in a small vat of water 
and a steam pipe suddenly set to blowing off with a most 
frightening sound. An electric current was then brought to 
bear on the naked body, and in the awful noise of the escaping 
steam, the prisoner thought himself being murdered by slow 
torture. No visitors were allowed to witness this, but the 
screams for mercy, which could be heard long distances away, 
told the story of the mental sufferings of the malefactor. 

I leave the reader to judge what effect such a 
punishment would have on the sensitive nerves of 
a woman, when ill, too, but, to my certain knowl- 
edge, it was received by a woman, and by the 
order of a woman. I feel that no remark is nec- 
essary regarding such men as would inflict it. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 325 

The writer of the little book did not exaggerate, 
for the screams of that girl rang in my ears for 
weeks; and when she returned from her punish- 
ment she told me that she would rather die than 
suffer it again. 

Yet, the third day afterwards, she was reported 
again, and for the offense of asking another pris- 
oner who was ill, how she felt. 

The matron was standing behind her when she 
asked the question, and said, "I'll tell you how 
she feels in a few hours." 

The girl was still so dazed and weak from her 
punishment that she did not realize that she was 
disobeying a rule by speaking to the other pris- 
oner, and I feared that further torture — certainly 
of the same kind — would cause her death. So, 
when the warden came around, I asked him to 
remit the punishment. He agreed to do so, but 
when he spoke to the matron about it she became 
very angry, and, putting him off in some way, had 
the girl punished— not by the same means, how- 
ever. Whether the warden knew it or not, I can- 
not say, but his authority was constantly being 
set aside by the matron. 
The dav after that occurrence, the matron, 



326 THE LIFE STORY OF 

seemingly to vent her spite still further, had the 
woman to whom the girl had spoken punished for 
a slight offense, and the man who punished her 
handled her so roughly that she was black-and- 
blue all over her body. 

These are facts ; and I will here assure the public 
that it is quite unnecessary for a person having 
seen nearly twenty years of prison life, to resort 
to fiction. 

This matron was a great financier, and doubtless 
saved many dollars for the state; but she was 
skilled in other things than finance, which I was 
destined to learn at a cost that nearly amounted 
to my life. 

To subject me to punishment as punishment 
would have been something that, probably, no 
officer of the prison would have thought of at- 
tempting; for the two reasons that my physical 
condition was not such as to admit of it, and my 
conduct never merited it. But there was a way 
found by which spite, or avarice, or inborn 
cruelty — I have never known what to call it, for 
the reason that I have never been sure why I was 
persecuted — could reach me. 

My sentence as commuted was to solitary con- 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 327 

finement — thanks to the inhumanity and narrow- 
ness of mind of R. B. Hayes, the governor who 
commuted it — but its carrying out had been de- 
cided to be too gross a cruelty, and had never been 
done. Yet, the sentence stood as at first, and at 
the time of which I speak, I was, one day, uncer- 
emoniously and without any charge, or reason 
given, put into solitary confinement in a small 
room, with two doors shutting me from all others. 
It was on the thirtieth day of May, 1879. 

I did not go outside of that room for five months; 
yet the warden, Mr. Dyer, would say in answer to 
the questions of visitors, "Oh, yes; she walks out 
every day" 

I do not know whether the warden was deceived 
in the matter, or not, but I know that he should 
not have been. 

The exercise that the freedom I had before been 
granted allowed me to get was all that had kept 
me alive, and none but God know what I suffered 
in that little room. All writing material, books, 
and even the visits of the chaplain were denied me. 
The limit of all cruelty except that of actual mur- 
der was reached, and death would very soon have 
followed, had it not been for Mrs. James Taylor, 



328 THE LIFE STORY OF 

who, though deprived of the privilege of ministering 
to me where I was, never, for a day, deserted my 
cause. Again and again she went to Governor 
Bishop, and again and again he gave orders for 
my release ; but the orders were either dishonored 
or suppressed as often as they were given, and the 
governor deceived. 

On her last visit to him, the governor told Mrs. 
Taylor that I certainly had been released, as he 
had given an order that it must be done. She 
assured him that I had not, and he then concluded 
to go himself and find out why his order had not 
been heeded. He did so, and the directors were 
obliged to make the charge known, if any there 
was, and give me an opportunity to defend my- 
self. They came, with the warden and matron, 
and the following will show the heinousness of all 
the cause they were able to show for the despi- 
cable course that had been taken : 

As I have previously said, all the inmates would 
take advice from me, and when anything seemed 
hard to bear, they would, if possible, come to me 
for counsel. New prisoners always found many 
things that seemed unbearable, and unless some- 
one gave them a clear understanding of the rules, 




IN MY CliLL. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 329 

there was sure to be trouble. The matron and 
assistant-matron, at that time, were constantly 
at outs, and between the two, it was almost im- 
possible for a prisoner to understand what was 
expected of her. 

In that state of affairs, a girl was sent to the 
prison, from Fremont, and her nerves were found 
to be in such a condition that she was thought to 
be insane. She soon felt like rebelling against the 
matrons (their conduct was not beyond reproach 
at times), and came to me and told me that she 
could hardly control herself at times, but was 
tempted to strike them. Seeing the condition she 
was in, I told her that when she had such feelings, 
she should go and lie down, and wait till she 
became quiet, when she would be able to see that 
she would only increase her troubles by resisting a 
matron. 

She followed my advice, and got along well for 
awhile, but the feeling would sometimes return, 
and as the prison rules, even at their greatest 
laxity, would not admit of her coming to me at 
all times, she would write little notes as an outlet 
to her desire for someone to advise her. The 
matrons and guards have what are called "suck- 



330 THE LIFE STORY OF 

ers," in prison parlance, who, being prisoners 
themselves, find out what is going on between the 
others and report to the matron or guard, as the 
case may be. One of these had taken a note from 
the girl to bring to me, but had, of course, given it 
to the matron instead. 
The note read as follows : 

Dear Auntie : — I know you want I should keep on, but I can't 
much longer. If I must, bow your head, and if not, shake it. 

Instead of bringing the note to me and demanding 
an explanation, the matron had kept it from me r 
to stand as an excuse for confining me. To make 
as much of a dreadful mystery of the matter as 
possible, the girl was reported, and subjected to 
the "humming-bird " punishment in order to make 
her confess some horrible plot that never had 
existed. I had heard the girl's screams while 
undergoing the punishment, and had heard her 
say that I had told her nothing except that she 
must be a good girl, and some day her mother 
could come to see her ; but as I had never seen the 
note, I knew nothing of what she was being asked 
to explain. 

I had appealed to the matron to have her tell me 



SARAH. M. VICTOR. 331 

what I was suspected of, but that had done no 
good. I had, too, asked one of the directors, and 
he had informed me that the "whole matter" had 
"been before the board," and they had approved 
of my confinement. But, at last they were all 
together, thanks to the humanity of Mrs. Taylor, 
who, by the way, had been cursed in a most blas- 
phemous manner for her interference, and when I 
was allowed to tell my own side of the matter, the 
whole scheme came out. 

The director who had told me that the facts 
had been before the board, was exposed — as they 
had not been— and left the room ; in contradiction 
to the reports that offenses and punishments had 
been lessened by my confinement, the warden 
admitted that they had been more than doubled ; 
the matron undertook to show that I had known 
why I was confined, and failed; and at last it 
became apparent that the only charge that could 
be shown was something that I was not only not 
guilty of, myself, at the most, but that I had 
absolutely no knowledge of. 

In less than an hour, I was released ; yet, I had 
been five months in solitary confinement, and a 
sick and half insane girl had been subjected to 



332 THE LIFE STORY OF 

inhuman punishment. Such, again, is prison 
life. 

I shall never forget the kindness of Mr. Blair, 
one of the directors, who spoke out justly, 
saying, " That woman is telling the truth !" 

And of Mrs. Taylor, what can I say other than 
that the higher humanity of one just, true woman 
was more than a match for all that scheming of 
inferior minds ? 

Efforts for my pardon were revived under Gov- 
ernor Bishop's administration, but the forces of 
the desperate were again brought to bear against 
me. Indeed, I think those very forces had much 
to do with my solitary confinement. There was 
much fear that I would be released by Governor 
Bishop, and the influence of some new allies, who 
might be discommoded by my liberty, was added 
to that already existing. 

Governor Bishop said there was a strong oppo- 
sition by some ladies, and others in Cleveland^ 
and one of the epistles sent to him was brought to 
me. I give it in full, as a sample of the matter 
with which governors have been besieged, in 
^confidence," for nearly twenty years past: 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 333 

TELLER LETTER. 

Cleveland, Jan'y 25, 1879. 
Mr. Gov. Bishop. 

Sir I noticed by the papers that the Case of that notorious 
Mrs V. is again to be brought up before the court now that 
you Gov are a kind man and yet a just man, I feel assured that 
you could not be persuaded to do such an unjust thing as to 

pardon such a vile and base woman as Mrs V has been 

there is no such thing as her being innocent of the terrible deed, 
for money was her object and this was not all of her crimes, 
she would have been guilty of three murders, instead of one, 
had her poison taken effect— She is a dangerous woman and 
Judge for God sake and the sake of the people keep her where 
she is sentenced to be and where she justly belongs for she was 
a devil in carnate— her crimes are unknown to most of the 
world, she has been guilty of many a states prison crime un- 
known to the public, and only her most intimate friends knew 
anything of it — I am witness to some of her terrible crimes for 
20 years, she carried on her games under false names, and in 
disguise many times, but I did not want to say anything 
about to be summoned to court but feel it my duty, confiden- 
tially to inform you of the facts so that she or her friends may 
not deceive you and work upon your good nature, if I was to 
tell you all I know of this woman it would curdle your blood, 
and yet it was all cloaked under her being a church member — I 
wish her no harm. Judge, but for God sake keep her where she 
belongs yours in confidence 

(Signed.) F. N. Teller. 

Upon the receipt of the foregoing choice bit of 
information, my friends immediately sent to Cleve- 



334 THE LIFE STORY OF 

land to have the " intimate friend," who had kept 
the secret of so many deeds of darkness for twenty 
years, looked tip. But, alas, F. N. Teller (Female 
News Teller) could not be found. She may not 
have been passing under her proper cognomen in 
Cleveland, but she was, probably, one of the 
"ladies" of whom Governor Bishop had been 
informed. 

Whether the really anonymous vile slander had 
any weight as truth with Governor Bishop, or 
he feared the curdling effect on his blood should F. 
N. T. fully unburden herself, I do not know, but 
lie did not grant a pardon. 

I will say for Governor Bishop, though, that he 
came to see me, and said that he did not like to 
leave me there. I was sick and helpless at the time 
— as who would not have been, from such persecu- 
tions as I had endured — and he said that unless 
someone would take and care for me, he could not 
grant my release. Preparations for my care had 
not been as fully made at that time as they were 
afterwards, and there was some reason in his 
excuse. Yet all the difficulty of my care would 
have been gladly done away with by my friends, 
even helpless as I was; and I feel that the real 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 3^55 

trouble was that Governor Bishop, while known 
to be a man of great kindliness of disposition, 
lacked the courage that goes with true justice. 

In talking with him, I asked him if he regretted 
having pardoned so many as he had done while he 
had been in office. It was then near the end of his 
term, and he had gained the name of "the pardon- 
ing governor." He answered that his only regret 
was that he had not pardoned more ; and so every 
good governor will feel when it is too late. 



336 THE LIFE STORY OF 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

A Reign of Kindness— Humming-bird Banished— Few Pun- 
ishments—St. Paul's Words— A Card of Thanks — 
Restricting the Diet— Washing— Demanding Bread — 
Fever and Thirst — The "Cup of Cold Water"— The 
Matron Dies — "I Thought So " — Governor Foster— Bad 
Messenger— Starting a Liberty Fund— Remarks— He 
Cried— Thanks for Help— Elections— Warden Peetry 
—Holidays— First Arrests— A Governor's Promise. 

MR. NOAH THOMAS next assumed the war- 
denship, and of him and his wife, and even 
down to the youngest of their children, nothing ever 
could be truthfully said except in the highest terms 
of respect, gratitude and affection. Kindness was 
the motto of Mr. Thomas' administration, and 
the conviction that it was no false emblem soon 
began to force itself on the minds of the prisoners. 
Mr. Thomas never lost sight of justice under any 
provocation, and Mrs. Thomas' thoughtfulness 
and care for the sick won the lasting gratitude of 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 337 

many a suffering heart, and the love and respect 
of all. 

The new order of things under Mr. Thomas was 
for a long time at first a constant surprise, and it 
never ceased to be appreciated. The "humming- 
bird" was banished, the dungeons left vacant, 
and in the whole four years of Mr. Thomas 
administration only three women were punished 
and but one fight occurred in the female depart- 
ment, that being but a skirmish between some 
colored girls, over their lovers outside. 

The kindliness of the parents was reproduced in 
the children and was shown by them in many 
ways. They interceded with their father to have 
him grant the male prisoners permission to talk 
while at dinner on Sundays. He could not resist 
their pleading, and when the ban of silence would 
be taken from the men, their cheers could be heard 
throughout the prison, and other hearts would 
rejoice over their relief. 

During the second winter of Mr. Thomas' reign, 
the weather was very cold, the prison insufficiently 
warmed, and at the beginning, the prisoners were 
without proper clothing. 

I will here say that a prisoner with any consid- 



338 THE LIFE STORY OF 

erable length of term can repeat with truth St. 
Paul's words, "In weariness and painfullness, in 
watchings often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings 
often, in cold and nakedness." 

But Mr. Thomas was equal to all emergencies 
arising, and he put the matter of clothing before 
the board of directors so convincingly that all 
were soon supplied with warm, comfortable out- 
fits. 

To show that prisoners are capable of feeling 
gratitude, I publish the following card of thanks, 
remembering how glad everyone was to sign it. 
It was read before the board of directors, and 
published in one of the Columbus papers at the 
time: 

Ohio Penitentiary, December 5, 1882. 
To the Matrons, Warden and Directors of the Ohio Peniten- 
tiary: 

We, the undersigned, feeling that it is our duty and that a 
most pleasant one, to show our appreciation of the many kind 
benefits bestowed upon us during the past few weeks in the 
shape of hoods, wraps and warm clothing, take the only means 
in our power, and that is to thank you. The matrons for their 
kind forethought in thinking of our comfort, and the warden 
and directors for supplying the means of procuring those com- 
forts. Words are too feeble to express our gratitude, but if a 
continuance of good behavior and obedience to the rules of 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 339 

this institution will be considered a sufficient reward by you, 
we will do our best to merit } r our kindness. 

So unto you we render thanks, 

Also to One on high ; 

As you have earthly comforts given 

May He you with heavenly gifts supply. 

Nellie , Maggie , Nellie , Sadie , 

Florence , Sarah P. , Angeline , 

(Signed.) Mary J. , Roma , Sarah M. Victor, 

Jessie , Nannie , Maggie , 

Florence , Mary , Katie , Ellen 

A. Athey, Rose , Mollie . 

Other difficulties arose at times, but the right 
way out of them was always taken. The matron 
who at first had charge had been matron at a 
previous time, and she very unwisely undertook 
to bring down the wills under her by restricting 
the diet. It had been a common custom, at times, 
to use such means, and she was not so very much 
to be blamed ; yet, the prisoners should not suffer 
for food, and they did not, long, under the new 
methods. A woman cannot wash for half a day 
on a piece of bread, particularly when she is already 
weakened by scant diet, and one day a woman came 
up from the laundry tired and weak, but des- 
perate. 



340 THE LIFE STORY OF 

She came up to me and expressed her feelings in 
the not very choice, but decidedly comprehensive 
language, " Bread or blood, Mrs. Victor." 

I knew that an outbreak could be averted only 
in one way, and I stepped to the gate of the de~ 
partment and called an under officer of the prison 
and asked him to speak to the warden. He 
thought it would be better for the girl to go once 
more to the matron and ask for a piece of bread, 
and instructed the girl to tell the matron that he 
sent her. The girl went, and soon the matron 
came up in a rage, and told the man that he 
need not dare to countermand her orders; that 
the woman should work, and without food, 
too. 

Tears came into the officer's eyes, and he said r 
"Do give the girl enough bread; there's plenty 
of it." 

But the matron said no, and the warden had to 
be sent for at last. When Mr. Thomas came, he 
very soon settled the matter by telling the matron 
that she must furnish all with enough to eat. 

Afterwards I was taken sick with a fever, and as 
the matron would not allow the prisoners to have 
ice, nor even cold water, from a well where it could 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 341 

be got by going after it, I suffered greatly until the 
assistant matron, Miss Houk, God bless her, came 
to me with a little piece of ice (all she had) not 
larger than an egg. I shall always think that 
little piece of ice saved my life. I was burning 
with fever and half delirious from thirst, and never 
in all my life in prison did I feel a temptation to 
commit suicide except on that night. The ' ' cup of 
cold water" — the little bit of ice, given by a Chris, 
tian hand— banished the feeling. 

The matron was taken with the same fever, at 
the same time, and died from it. I think it was 
really ill health that caused her irritability, and I 
know that every hand was reached out to help 
her the moment she was thought to be in danger. 

Miss Houk then became matron, and there are 
few young ladies like her. I shall never forget her 
kindness to me, not only at the time I have spoken 
of, but at all times. Occasionally visitors would 
come to the prison who would say they knew all 
about me, and thought I ought to be where I was. 
Miss Houk would never let such things pass with- 
out saying something in my behalf, and she would 
sometimes ask if they knew any harm of me them- 
selves. 



342 THE LIFE STORY OF 

Almost invariably the answer would be, "No, 
but I've read about her in the papers." 

"I thought so," Miss Houk would say. 

Governor Foster was in office during Mr. 
Thomas' wardenship, and had it not have been for 
the unfaithfulness of a man to whom some papers 
were entrusted, I do not doubt that I would have 
been liberated then. As it was understood at the 
beginning of Governor Foster's administration, 
that he did not like to grant pardons on old 
papers — that is, those that had been before former 
governors — my friends got up a new petition, 
secured letters from prominent persons, got the 
sanction of the board of directors and gave all 
the papers to a man to leave at the governor's 
office. 

But the man kept the papers, and we did not 
know that they had not been taken to Governor 
Foster until Governor Hoadly had been some 
weeks in office. The man had a nephew in prison 
whom- he wanted to get a pardon for, and some 
thought that he did not want to risk turning 
clemency away from the case. There may have 
been a different reason for his keeping the papers 
back, as he got the nephew released, and certainly 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 343 

should have delivered the papers afterwards. His 
treachery will not be forgotten, in any case. 

When my friends would speak to Governor Fos- 
ter of my case, he would say, " Bring papers that 
I can pardon on." 

Thinking that he had the papers, but called them 
unsatisfactory, those making the effort thought he 
did not mean to grant a pardon. 

He came to see me, and when I asked him to par- 
don a woman for whom I felt great sympathy on 
account of her having a babe, he said, "Mrs. 
Victor, you are asking me to pardon this woman 
who has only ten months to serve, and have not 
asked me for yourself at all." 

I told him it was because she had a babe, and 
the prison rules would oblige her to be separated 
from it. He pardoned her, and everybody thought 
it strange that he should grant that, and not re_ 
lease me. But the w r hole matter was explained 
when it was too late. 

Mrs. Foster and her family also visited me, and 
sent me many acceptable and beautiful presents. 
I have the photograph of their daughter Annie, 
still, and prize it highly. 

At times, after my health became such as to per- 



344 THE LIFE STORY OF 

mit me to work, I had accumulated a few dollars 
by the sale of articles of fancy-work that I made, 
the material being furnished me by kind friends, 
among them being Mrs. James Taylor, for one, 
who never deserted, nor forgot, nor neglected my 
cause during some fourteen long years; Mrs. De- 
Sellem, of whom I can think better than talk, even 
now; Mrs. Pettit, always conscientious and truly 
helpful; cheery little Mrs. Thomas and many 
others. 

But at one time I gave all I had to a woman 
who was about to be released, and who promised 
to repay me, but never did, and another time I 
gave every dollar to a woman who said she would 
go to Cleveland and get names to a petition, but 
who, although she went, did not keep her word. 

At last, one day, two gentlemen, John M. Wil- 
cox and L. A. Russell, of Cleveland, came to visit 
the prison. The matron told them of my work, 
and asked me to show them some. They asked if 
I was allowed to sell it, and on being told that I 
was, they took some collars, tidies, etc., and gave 
me between three and four dollars. 

I was delighted. Perhaps that expression seems 
extravagant to the reader, but perhaps the reader 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 345 

does not know what it is to be in a prison so long 
as I had been — has not been shut in from the 
world where a few dollars are earned in a much 
less number of days, and where one is on an equal 
standing with all others, if he or she endeavors to 
be. I can imagine that the person reading this 
has never known what it was to have the gift of 
an orange or some simple thing from the outside 
world entirely unnerve him or her. 

I have been told that a man from Summit 
county, Ohio, was pardoned by Governor Allen 
while I was yet in a state of partial insanity, and 
that when the men went in to tell him of his 
release, he threw his prison-cap on the floor, and — 
cried. Yet he had been in the prison less than nine 
years; had been a strong man, and had really 
killed two men — though in defense of his property. 
I can well understand why he cried. 

But, to go back, the sum given me by the gen- 
tlemen spoken of, and given in the way it was — 
not as a half dollar tossed at me in charity, but 
with consideration and respect for my feelings, 
as a price paid for labor, though the sum was 
large for the work — revived my broken courage, 
and seemed like a glimpse of liberty. 



346 THE LIFE STORY OF 

I had long before learned that even to obtain 
the truth from those ready to give it, repuired 
money ; and I had learned, also, that no amount 
of inquiry or intreaty would bring me any help 
from or knowledge of my own property. So, I 
thought that with so much for a nucleus, I would 
again begin to save all I got, and be sure whom I 
intrusted it to, as well. With that determination 
I started, that very day, what I called my "liberty 
fund, " and continued to add to it by working and 
selling my work. I gave the money to the chap- 
lain to put in bank for me, as fast as I earned it, 
and from that fund I paid, in a small part, for the 
legal work in getting my liberty. So I feel in- 
debted to those gentlemen, and I express my 
thanks here. 

After four years, we were obliged to part with 
our kind warden and his family, and that was a 
sad time in the Ohio penitentiary. 

Those knowing nothing of prison life may won- 
der that election times should have any interest 
to the convict, but there are, probably, none, not 
even the candidates themselves, who feel greater 
anxiety over a change of administration in state 
matters than do those in prison bondage. A new 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 347 

governor means a new warden and, usually, an 
almost complete change throughout. If the war- 
den in office is a good man, the great anxiety is 
for his side to win ; but if he has been unjust and 
unfeeling, a change is looked at as a chance for 
betterment, and he gets no sympathy in reality, 
although the prisoners are usually too wise to 
make their preferences known. Some wardens do 
not treat all alike, and then when election time 
comes, there is trouble among the prisoners. I 
have known some to come to blows over their 
respective candidates, and be put in the dungeon 
for days as a consequence. 

For myself, I always felt sad over a change of 
wardens, even when the one officiating was not 
as perfect as might have been. Knowing the dif- 
ficulties of the position, and the mistakes and 
perplexities that must arise from inexperience 
alone, I always dreaded a change. My greatest 
hope was always that some good man, of what- 
ever party, who had been warden before would 
return; and many a sad, lonely hour I whiled 
away during the campaign before Mr. Thomas r 
departure, hoping that if a Republican was elected,. 






348 THE LIFE STORY OF 

Mr. Thomas would remain, and if a Democrat, 
Colonel Innis would get the place. 

But there was disappointment and no little 
unrest in store for us all. We soon found that 
Mr. Peetry, who had been a member of the board 
of directors, was to take Mr. Thomas' place. Mr. 
Peetry had been a hard director, and we said good- 
bye to Mr. Thomas and his family in great de- 
spondency and sadness. 

Yet, we were not quite forsaken — our cloud had 
a brighter side. As soon as Mr. Peetry began to 
see things as they really were, his mind seemed 
to undergo a change, and the result was that 
he made a very satisfactory warden. While a 
director, he had said that the prisoners had more 
privileges than he would allow, if he could have his 
way, and was very stern in every way ; but after 
he became warden and I went to him in be- 
half of the other prisoners and myself and asked 
Mm if we would be allowed to keep such things as 
we had, he did not understand what I meant, and 
when I explained, was surprised that such a ques- 
tion should be necessary. 

It had been the custom at times, to take every 
article of extra clothing, and even pictures of 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 349 

friends, or any little keepsake one might have, 
away from the prisoners, and such proceedings 
were little less than persecutions. Many times a 
warden would allow the inmates to receive from 
friends or buy and make up for themselves in their 
leisure time, articles of clothing, which would help 
them to a better beginning on their release, and 
the next warden take everything from them, even, 
as I have said, to their keepsakes. This was 
always done by the matron, with the warden's 
approval, but if permission was obtained from the 
warden at the outset, before some matron had 
lost her temper and wanted to retaliate, everybody 
felt safe. 

Mr. Peetry granted us permission to retain 
everything we had, and added to that, the matron 
who came with him, Mrs. Jones, was a good, 
humane woman, and one of whom I have very 
grateful remembrance. Mrs. Peetry did not take 
the interest in the sick that Mrs. Thomas had 
done, and consequently was not liked as well; but 
Mr. Peetry ordered my dinner to be brought me 
from the matron's table, regularly, and so, for 
myself, I had no cause to complain. 

Speaking of the food reminds me of the anticipa- 



350 THE LIFE STORY OF 

tion with which holidays are looked foward to in 
prison. On those days an extra dinner is provided, 
and permission is given for the inmates to sing 
and enjoy themselves in other ways. Poor girls! 
Some of them forget their sorrows and sing and 
dance, while others are only reminded of home or 
friends from which they are separated by their own 
misdeeds or circumstances that bring anything 
but pleasant thoughts. 

I wish to say a word in behalf of female prison- 
ers: In the majority of cases the police-station 
has led to the penitentiary, and if those who look 
upon a woman who has been in prison as so much 
of an outcast as to be deserving of no pity could 
but hear some of the accounts given of first 
arrests, they would find that a portion, at least, 
of their scorn might well be turned in another 
direction. It is not of myself that I speak, for 
my first was my last arrest; and no person is 
safe from such machinations as I have suffered 

from. 
But many a young girl has been arrested in 

some questionable place into which she was forced 

by the actual necessity for shelter and taken to a 

jail or police-station only to be subjected to insults 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 351 

and indignities that robbed her of faith in society 
and deterred her from seeking the aid of respect- 
able people. I know this to be true, and I cannot 
leave unspoken the suggestion that it might be 
well to look into the purity of the prisons them- 
selves before condemning the prisoner. 

In all the administrations we were allowed our 
Sabbath-school and prayer-meetings, and they are 
among the brightest recollections of my life in 
prison. Some of the best meetings I ever attended 
were there. Rev. I. H. DeBruin, the present chap- 
lain, has held the office before, and understands 
those to whom he administers better, perhaps, 
than any other who ever held the position. 
There were always some good singers among the 
prisoners, and many times others, from the out- 
side, were present. One request that was always 
granted me was for the male choir to come over 
and sing to us. The poor boys enjoyed the little 
liberty very much, and would always pray for me, 
and that I might be delivered from that place. I 
shall never forget those kind hearts in prison, 
who, both men and women, would always sing 
my favorite hymns, and treat me with the great- 
est deference. Though I may never meet them 



352 THE LIFE STORY OF 

here, I hope to meet them all where no prisons 
are known. 

Governor Hoadly, whose incoming brought Mr. 
Peetry to us as warden, was appealed to in my 
behalf, but, few of my friends had any faith from 
the first that he would do me justice, and I soon 
learned to have as little. I wrote and asked him 
to come or send someone to the prison, and ask 
any questions he might wish to, telling him I 
would answer anything, however unpleasant. 

He came through one day, when I was too ill to 
talk with him, and promised to come again. But 
he evidently did not consider a promise to a pris- 
oner very binding, for he never came. His son 
came through the prison one day, and I asked him: 
to remind his father of the promise given me, and 
tell him that I was looking for him. Still I saw 
nothing of the governor, and I finally became so 
disgusted with his conduct that I told those aid- 
ing me that I would not accept a pardon at his 
hands, and I really hoped he would not grant my 
release. 

Of all the governors who have ever held that 
office in Ohio, I do not think there were ever so 
many complaints of discourtesy as there were of 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 353 

Governor Hoadly. The conduct of R. B. Hayes 
may be seen by some of the statements published 
herein, and needs no further comment by me ; but 
he kept up an appearance of civility to those who 
went to him, and who were certainly worthy of 
consideration and respect from any person, what- 
ever position chance or circumstances might have 
placed him in. 

Gov. Hoadly's administration seemed marked 
by nothing, so far as he was concerned and I 
have been able to learn, but a willingness to scoff 
at the religious belief of others, and disregard the 
advance that the cause of humanity was making 
in the face of the opposition of just such men as 
himself. 

I said when the efforts were being made, that 
I did not want a pardon at his hands, and I am 
glad to be able to say that I am in no way in- 
debted to him for my release. 



354 THE LIFE STORY OF 



CHAPTER XXV. 

"On New Year's Day "—Kindness Appreciated— Thoughts 
of a Prisoner — Gems — Seeing a Ghost— James A. Dean — 
Prison Letter Head —Liberties Granted —Rules of 
the Female Department— The Parole Law— Rules 
Adopted— Form of Parole —Form of Guaranty— De- 
grees of Murder — A Seeming Absurdity —Why Not 
Give All a Chance — A Woman's Reasoning — From a 
Prisoner's Letter— Remarks— " God Pity the Wretched 
Prisoners." 

THE following rhyme was written by one of 
the female prisoners to another, and gives 
n better idea of how the time is passed in prison 
than, perhaps, could be given in any other way. 
The writer was a young English woman who, 
after coming to this country, married a worthless 
fellow, and falling into bad ways, found herself 
in the Ohio penitentiary : 

ON NEW YEAR'S DAY. 

" You wish me to write you a letter, 
But I scarce know what to say, 
So I think I'll tell in a little rhyme 
How we passed this New Year's day. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 355 

We rose at six o'clock, exact, 

At seven of breakfast we partook, 

Then to our cells, where with great care 
Our carpets swept and beds we shook. 

Each one has a separate task 

In this mansion to her assigned, 
And, though she may not like it, 

Still 'tis best to be resigned. 

Mrs. , of medium height, 

Queenly, and winning of face, 
Prepared the table — set the plates, 

And showed each one her place. 

And at the table all was neat 

And clean as it could be. 
When Mrs. is at home, 

A fine housewife you'll see. 

Well, after chamber work was done, 

7 went to wash, some sew. 
It did not suit on New Year's day, 

But then — we had to, you know. 

Half past eleven, then we watched 

For the welcome ding-a-ding, 
And gladly marched to dinner, 

Ere the bell had ceased to ring. 

For dinner we had bread and meat 

Potatoes, celery, cake— Oh, my! 
Syrup, apples, candy, nuts and raisins, 

(The last were in the pie.) 



356 THE LIFE STORY OF 

To our ' apartments' we then repaired 

To rest for a little while, 
And eat the sweetmeats and the nuts — 

On New Year's we put on style. 

After a rest, to work again, 

Until we heard the bell's sweet chime, 

Calling us to our evening meal — 
And, be sure we were there or time. 

Then to our rooms for the night, 

And, dear friend, what thoughts came then, 
I would never attempt to tell you 
By either tongue or pen. 

For on this should-be gladsome night — 

The first night of the year — 
We think of all that might have been, 

With many a falling tear. 

But, ere I close this letter, 

My friend, I'll wish you may, 
When this year shall be vanished, 

Spend a better New Year's day." 

The writer of the above was rebellious under 
harsh treatment, but to show that she was capable 
of appreciating kindness, I quote the following, 
which was written by her during the reign of Miss 
Houk and Mrs. Glines as matrons : 

" Our matrons, kind, with cheerful words, 
Try to make all things bright ; 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 357 

That we may work with willing hands, 
And try to do the right." 

The following extract is taken from some 
thoughts of one of the prisoners, which were 
written out in a little book of mine by herself: 

My Dear Friend:— While sitting, this lonely afternoon, in my 
room— I mean my cell, or one of the apartments of the female 
department of the state prison, I can call my mind to nothing 
here, but wander away many miles outside of the great walls. 
The great burden on my mind is being deprived of liberty and 
home. Yet, it is all wrong to be thinking and crying over such 
things, when I know that the best and greatest friend I 
have or ever shall have will be with me inside of any great 
walls. 

Many of the convicts could not express their 
thoughts as well as the ones mentioned, but the 
way in which every scrap of paper containing the 
thoughts of gifted writers is preserved when it 
comes to the department, shows that many are 
able to appreciate much more than some might 
think. Many such little gems as the following are 
treasured up and passed around among the 
inmates, that all may have the benefit of them : 

" Life's fondest hopes may be shattered, 
And nothing seem left us but sorrow ; 



358 THE LIFE STORY OF 

Wait till the storm-clouds are scattered— 
'Twill be all the brighter to-morrow. 
Wait. 

Wait, for thy Father best knoweth 
When thou of reward art deserving. 

Wait, till his wisdom bestoweth 
The prize for thy waiting and serving. 
Wait." 

The following, by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, is so 
well understood by prisoners that it was preserved 
by one: 

" Laugh, and the world laughs with you, 

Weep, and you weep alone, 
For the brave old earth must borrow its mirth, 

It has trouble enough of its own. 
Sing, and the hills will answer, 

Sigh, it is lost on the air ; 
The echoes rebound in a joyful sound 

And shrink from voicing care." 

Some of the convicts are very superstitious, and 
in their imaginations see many strange things, as 
this clipping, from a Columbus paper, will show : 

There was quite a furor in the female department of the pen- 
ten tiary early Sunday morning. About three o'clock one of 
the female convicts made the corridors echo with her shrieks, 
which called out several others of the female prisoners who 
were attending one of their number who is sick. The first 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 359 

name of the woman who did the screaming is Kate, and she 
declared she had seen the ghost of a woman who died at the 
prison a year since. She said the apparition was standing 
at the radiator beckoning to her. She has been under treatment 
for nervous disorder and was finally quieted down. 

As is the case in all ghost stories, there was no 
ghost. The fact was that one of the other con- 
victs stood at a radiator, and when Kate appeared 
at the door, raised her hand to enjoin silence, sit- 
ting down as she did so. Kate turned and fled 
shrieking. Seeing a "ghost" sometimes has a 
good effect in the department, and saves the matron 
much trouble for weeks with some of the more 
troublesome convicts. 

Among the first matrons that the female depart- 
ment ever had was a man. Somewhere from '43 
to '45 James A. Dean was all the matron there 
was over the female convicts, though I believe he 
was called superintendent. Mr. Dean is still in 
the prison, and has filled different positions there 
for some forty years, most of the time being 
deputy-warden. During the fore part of my im- 
prisonment there used to be many stories told of 
his cruelty to the convicts, but I doubt that they 
had much truth for their foundation. But if such 



360 THE LIFE STORY OF 

was the case, Mr. Dean long since learned the use- 
lessness of such a course, as all intelligent officers 
do, and for many years no complaint need have 
been made of him in any way. A number of years 
ago he joined the church, and some say he has 
been more kind than before, since that time. His 
strict honesty is known to all in the prison, and 
probably no official ever in the Ohio penitentiary 
had so thorough a knowledge of convicts and the 
general workings of a prison as has James A. Dean. 
During the first years of his services in the prison, 
when the Ohio penitentiary was in its infancy, 
he was obliged to act in many capacities, and, as I 
have said, at one time had sole charge of the 
female prisoners. How he acquitted himself as a 
matron, I do not know, but I have no doubt he 
gave those over whom he held the sceptre some 
salutary lessons in honesty. 

I publish the following heading, which appears 
over all stationery used by the convicts, that all 
may understand the exact rules governing prison 
correspondence at the present time : 

Parties corresponding with prisoners will carefully observe 
the following directions, viz : Write plainly in English, with 
ink ; confine yourself strictly to family and business matters. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 



361 



In directing letters, write prisoner's name and serial number 
^plainly on envelope. Stamp properly to insure delivery. All 
letters and papers are examined. No daily 
papers, food, or wearing apparel will be ad- 
mitted. Religious books, periodicals and 
papers, family photographs, pocket handker- 
chiefs and suspenders admitted. Friends may 
write as often as they wish. Prisoners can 
write but once in four weeks, and see friends 
but once in four weeks. 

E. G. Coffin, Warden. 
Ohio Penitentiary, Columbus, Ohio. 



{ SEAL } 



WRITE NAME AND SERIAL NUMBER 
HERE. 



Name. 



Serial No. 



WRITE FULL ADDRESS OF YOUR 
LETTER HERE. 



Who to. 



Postoffice. 



County and State. 



Columbus, O., 1887. 



The blanks are all filled out by the prisoner, so 
that the number by which he or she is known in 
the prison will be seen by the correspondent. 

The following liberties are granted : 

Prisoners are at liberty to ask explanation from the warden 
at any suitable opportunity, and may see the managers when- 
ever they are at the institution, by a written request through 



362 THE LIFE STORY OF 

the regular channel ; or they may speak to the managers when; 
on their rounds through the prison. 

RULES 

FOR THE GOVERNMENT OF THE FEMALE DEPART- 
MENT, 6. P. 

Laundry girls are to stay in the sewing-room when not 
working in laundry, and are not to leave the laundry without 
permission. 

Sewing-room girls are not to leave the sewing-room without, 
permission. 

No talking while at work. 

Fifteen minutes before meals will be allowed for recreation. 

Lights in the cells must be out by nine o'clock, p. m., unless 
granted permission to burn later. 

No talking allowed after locking up. 

Girls doing dining-room work and running work are to stay 
in sewing-room when not busy. 

Cells are to be thoroughly cleaned on Saturdays. 

No going into different cells without permission. 

Everyone is required to be up and ready for breakfast when 
second bell rings. All are required to be at the table, unless 
excused on account of sickness. 

No talking at the table. 

All must be locked and house quiet at eight o'clock in the 
evening. 

By order : 



Matron. 
Approved : 



Warden. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 363 

IN REGARD TO THE PAROLE LAW. 

The parole law, which was passed a few years 
ago, is, I think, one of the best laws ever enacted 
relating to prisoners, in Ohio, both for prisoners 
and society; but the clause excluding from its 
benefits those convicted of certain crimes, etc., 
could, I feel sure, be stricken out with safety, and 
in justice ought to be. Section 8 of the act of 
May 4, 1885, says: 

That said board of managers shall have power to establish, 
rules and regulations under which any prisoner who is now, or 
hereafter may be, imprisoned under a sentence other than for 
murder in the first or second degree, who ma)'- have served 
the minimum term provided by law for the crime for 
which he was convicted, and who has not previously 
been convicted of a felony, and served a term in a penal 
institution, may be allowed to go upon parole outside 
the buildings and enclosures, but to remain, while on 
parole, in legal custody and under the control of the 
board, and subject at any time to be taken back within the 
enclosure of said institution ; and full power to enforce such 
rules and regulations, and to retake and re-imprison any con- 
vict so upon parole is hereby conferred upon said board, whose 
written order, certified to b}' its secretary, shall be a sufficient 
warrant for all officers named therein, to authorize such officer 
to return to actual custody any conditionally released or 
paroled prisoner, and it is hereby made the duty of all officers 
to execute said order the same as ordinary criminal process. 



364 THE LIFE STORY OF 

The rules adopted by the board of managers are 
as follows: 

Resolved, That in the matter of paroling prisoners, under 
section one of the act passed by the general assembly of the 
State of Ohio, May 4, 1885, the board of managers shall be 
governed by the following rules and regulations : 

1st. No prisoner shall be paroled who has not been in the 
nrst grade continuously, for a period of, at least, four months. 

2nd. No prisoner shall be released on parole until satisfac- 
tory evidence is furnished the board of managers, in writing, 
that employment has been secured for such prisoner, from some 
responsible person, certified to be such by the auditor of the 
county where such person resides. 

3rd. No prisoner shall be paroled until the managers are 
satisfied that he will conform to the rules and regulations of 
his parole. 

4th. Every paroled prisoner shall be liable to be retaken and 
.again confined within the enclosures of said institution, for any 
reason that may be satisfactory to the board of managers, and 
at their sole discretion; and shall remain there until released 
by law. 

5th. It shall require the affirmative vote of, at least, four of 
the managers to grant a parole. 

6th. The parole provided for in said act, shall be in the fol- 
lowing form, signed by the president and secretary of the 
board of managers : 

FORM OF PAROLE. 

Know All Men by These Presents, That the Board of Mana- 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 365 

gers of the Ohio Penitentiary, desiring to test the ability of 

a prisoner of said institution, to refrain from crime and lead an 
honorable life, do, by virtue of the authority conferred upon 

them by law, hereby Parole the said . 

and allow him to go on 

parole outside the buildings and enclosure of said institution, 
but not outside the State of Ohio, subject, however, to the fol- 
lowing rules and regulations : 

1. He shall proceed at once to the place of employment pro- 
vided for him, viz : and there remain, if 

practicable, for a period of at least six months from this date, 

2. In case he finds it desirable to change his employment or 
residence, he shall first obtain the written consent of the Secre- 
tary of said Board of Managers. 

3. He shall on the first day of each month until his final 
release, according to law, forward by mail to the Secretary of 
said Board, a report of himself, stating whether he has been 
constantly under pay during the last month, and if not, why 
not, and how much he has earned and how much he has 
expended, together with a general statement of his surround- 
ings and prospects. 

4. He shall in all respects conduct himself honestly, avoid 
evil associations, obey the law, and abstain from the use of 
intoxicating liquors as a beverage. 

5. As soon as possible after reaching his destination he shall 

report to - show him this 

Parole, and at once enter upon the employment provided for 
him. 

6. He shall, while on Parole, remain in the legal custody, 
and under the control of said Board. 



3G6 



THE LIFE STORY OF 



7. He shall be liable to be retaken and again confined within 
the enclosure of said Institution for any reason that shall be 
.satisfactory to the Board of Managers, and at their sole 
-discretion. 

The management of said Institution has a lively and friendly 
interest in the subject of this Parole, and he need not fear or 
hesitate to freely communicate with the Secretary in case he 
loses his situation, or becomes unable to labor by reason of 
sickness or otherwise. 



Name 

Age 

Height 

Weight 

Complexion. 

Eyes 

Hair....: 

Marks 



DESCRIPTION. 

Crime 



Date of Sentence 

Date when Admitted. 

Date of Parole 

County 

Court 

Occupation 

Residence 



The Board of Managers : 
By... 



.President. 



.Secretary. 



Following is the form of guaranty given by the 
person wishing to employ the paroled prisoner : 

, 0., 188... 

To the Board of Managers Ohio Penitentiary, 

Gentlemen : I beg to state that in the event 

No a prisoner in your institution, is 

•deemed by you a suitable person to parole under the provisions 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 367 

of the late law providing for such release, that 

will, immediately upon the release of the said 

employ him at work in the art of 

which is considered a useful and honorable occupation, and so 

far as may be in power to do 

will aid and encourage the said 

to comply with the conditions of his parole, and to become a 
useful and honorable member of society. 



My P. 0. Address is , County of. Ohio. 

County of. Ohio. 

I certify that the above named is a 

responsible, reliable citizen of. 

County, Ohio, and entitled to respect and 

consideration. 

Auditor, County, Ohio. 

It is seen that those coming under the parole 
law are put upon their good behavior while yet in 
the prison, thus making prison government easier, 
and when released are provided with a place of resi- 
dence — a shelter from temptation, and society 
made safe in a great measure by the conditions of 
the parole. 

Now, let me ask, why should the ones mentioned 
be excluded from the benefits of this law, when it 
is well understood that with a home to go to, the 
-oversight of respectable people and the condition 



368 THE LIFE STORY OF 

of strict temperance over him, a person is no more 
likely to repeat the crime of murder in the first 
or second degree than in the third — manslaughter? 

In either case— when the person is guilty of 
murder at all, which I have good reasons for 
knowing is not so in all cases — a human life has 
been taken; and I fail to see the difference to 
society between the man who turns suddenly on 
another, perhaps his friend, in the frenzy of intoxi- 
cation and plunges a knife into his body, and the 
one whose mind liquor has warped into a more 
cunning insanity, which leads him to creep into 
the shadow and strike a person down. 

In nearly every case— the exceptions are rare — 
of murder, the cause is known to be the use of 
liquor; and those who can, with the help of a 
home and friends, under the parole law, keep them- 
selves clear from blight by the liquor traffic, will, 
with very rare exceptions, never deserve sentence 
for murder of any degree. And if they forfeit the 
condition of temperance, they can, and for the good 
of society should be, immediately returned. 

Then, the exception of those having previously 
served a term in prison seems absurd. There are 
those in the Ohio penitentiary to-day serving a 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 369 

third, and even a fourth term, who, I am as certain 
as that I am myself free (more certain, for I hardly 
realize my freedom yet), would strive strenuously, 
and under many difficulties, to do right, could they 
be given the help and protection that is stipulated 
under the parole law. It must be remembered 
that when those who have served more than one 
term were first liberated, they were not sent to 
homes prepared for them, but, both men and 
women, were put outside the prison gates only to 
find every man's and woman's hand against them, 
except, perhaps, some few associates no better and 
as helpless as themselves. Another thing I wish to 
say is that if one should undertake to judge of the 
disposition of a convict by the kind or degree of 
the crime of which he or she was convicted, many 
very great mistakes would be made; for very often 
light offenders, as convicted, are the more unreli- 
able and dangerous in many ways. Why not give 
them all the one chance the parole law provides ? 

This may all be looked on as a woman's reason- 
ing — a convict at that— but it has come from a 
woman's suffering, and I will not leave it unsaid. 

A former prisoner in the Ohio penitentiary wrote 
to his fellow prisoners : 



370 THE LIFE STORY OF 

It is now almost eight years since God and your former 
warden, Colonel Innis, opened the prison doors for me to pass 
out. True, I was happy to gain my liberty, but for a short 
time I scarcely knew what course to pursue to make a living. 

The writer of that succeeded, but, alas, the 
short time he speaks of grows into a long time 
with many, and it is small wonder that so many 
fail altogether. 

" God pity the wretched prisoners 
In their lonely cells this day ; 
Whatever the sins that tripped them, 
God pity them still, I say. 

Only a gleam of sunshine, 

Cleft by the rusty bars ; 
Only a patch of azure, 

Only a cluster of stars. 

Only a barren future, 

To starve their hopes upon, 
Only stinging memories 

Of a past that's better gone. 

Only scorn from woman, 

Only hate from man, 
Only remorse to whisper 

Of a life that might have been. 

Once they were li ttle children ; 
Perhaps their untrained feet 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 

"Were led by a gentle mother 
Towards the ' golden street.' 

Therefore, if in life's forest 

They since have lost their way, 

For the sake of her who loved them- 
God pity them still, I say. 

And you who judge so harshh', 
Are you sure the stumbling stone 

That tripped the feet of others 
May not have bruised your own ? 

Are j'ou sure the sad-faced angel 
Who writes our errors down 

Will ascribe to you more honor 
Than him on whom 3'ou frown ? 

If when temptation meet you, 
You can greet it with a smile, 

If you can chain pale Passion, 
And keep }'our lips from guile, 

Then bless the hand that crowned you, 

Remembering as you go 
It was not your own endeavors 

That shaped your nature so. 

Then pray for the wretched prisoners 

Ah over the land to-day, 
That a Holy hand in pity, 

Will wipe their sins away." 



371 



372 THE LIFE STORY OF 



CHAPTER XXVI. 

An Eventful Change— A Good Warden and Wife— A Wise 
Matron— The Ladies Take Courage— Not Elated— Of 
Newel — Fears of Defeat — All Before the Governor 
—Night Before Pardon— Great Mental Strain— Free ! 
— Packing Up— A Christmas Tree— Last Farewells — 
Outside the Walls— Some Unreality— At the House — 
Eating at a Table— A Reporter— Rest— About Gov- 
ernor Foraker— Messages— First Going Out. 

AT last there came another change, and one 
that was destined to end all the anxieties 
of bondage — all dreary vigils in suspense and 
doubts of God's goodness, for me. The fruit of 
the long years of effort, the realization of the hope 
that had wavered and faded almost out of sight 
numberless times, yet had never been taken from 
me, was almost within my grasp, but I did not 
know it. 

When we at last knew that there was to be a 
change in officials of the prison, I went on in the 
old routine, making inquiries of visitors and offi- 
cers as to what kind of a warden we were to have, 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 373 

and hoping that someone would be brought as 
matron who would, at least partially, fill the 
place of our kind Mrs. Jones. We were told that 
a Mr. Coffin, of Springfield, was to take the war- 
denship, and many were the descriptions and ideas 
given of him. Some thought he would be entirely 
too "soft" for the place, but knowing that what 
was called softness by some was the one thing 
most needed in a warden, that fear did not trouble 
me. 

Before Mr. Coffin and his family arrived, every- 
body had formed an opinion, and we all thought 
we knew them. But we were surprised and agree- 
ably disappointed by finding both Mr. Coffin and 
his wife far better than we had even hoped for. 
There could hardly be a better warden than Mr. 
Coffin was up to the time I left the prison, and 
Mrs. Coffin's kind, motherly ways and words to 
all brought her a welcome from every heart. 

Added to the merits of Mr. and Mrs. Coffin, the 
matron coming with them, Miss Fitzgerald, seemed 
to understand fully, from the first, that the har- 
vest depends much on the sower. One of the first 
things she did was to have the food for the female 
department prepared in that department and 



374 THE LIFE STORY OF 

place a good cook in charge. The good sense 
shown in that act is better appreciated in the 
prison than it can possibly be understood outside. 
She also allowed everyone enough to eat, and 
granted many favors and liberties never before 
enjoyed. Her thoughtfulness for my comfort will 
never be forgotten. 

The faith that had almost died out during Gov- 
ernor Hoadly's reign revived when Governor 
Foraker took his seat, and my friends determined 
to try the effect of truth on a man whom they had 
faith to believe could recognize it when it was 
placed before him. Attorney L. L. Rankin agreed to 
undertake any legal work that might be necessary,, 
and to work as the others were doing, without 
money or hope of remuneration. All the ladies 
who had grown despondent from the lack of 
courtesy shown by Governor Hoadly, again took 
courage, and felt confident that they could get, 
at least, an impartial hearing of my case. Mrs. 
Taylor, always steadfast in her efforts for me, 
always doing the little when the much could not 
be accomplished, at last began to have a living 
hope of success. 

"Mrs. Victor, I feel sure that we have a just 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 375 

man to deal with, and everything at our command 
shall be placed before him," said Chaplain De- 
Bruin, of whom I have said little because I could 
not recall where to begin, and knew that finding a 
place that would warrant me in stopping would 
be still more difficult. 

It may seem strange that with such helpers I 
did not feel elated, but I did not. I had suffered 
too many disappointments ; I had been too sorely 
tried before, to allow any hope to take possession 
of me, with many chances of having it crushed out 
in a moment. I had had cause to know the un- 
scrupulousness of my enemies, and I did not know 
what might be resorted to. 

Sometime during Governor Foster's administra- 
tion, Mr. Newel had died, "very suddenly," my 
informant said, and so the people in Cleveland 
now say, about the time that the newspapers had 
said there was little doubt of my being pardoned ; 
and after his death, the opposition to my release 
was perceptibly less. But as the statements of 
Mr. Jones, who was prosecuting-attorney at the 
time of my trial, and who seemed never to have 
dropped the prosecution of my case, had influenced 
Governor Hoadly, and as the newspapers had 



376 THE LIFE STORY OF 

always shown a willingness to revive old false- 
hoods and assist anyone, however irresponsible, 
in concocting new ones, I did not know what 
effort might be brought to bear, nor what new 
tale of horror might be manufactured and sent to 
the governor. 

But, Governor Foraker had all the voluminous 
mass of evidence preserved by the prosecution (he 
did not have all the evidence in the case, for much 
that should have benefited me does not appear in 
the records preserved) ; all the letters of the 
" Teller" kind, written "in confidence;" all the 
murderous newspaper accounts of numerous 
poisonings on my part; full alleged particulars 
of the lack of wealth and aristocracy of my father 
and family ; and the petitions in my behalf, with 
the simple facts as far as we could get them. 

After everything had been put before the gover- 
nor, I was told that he was giving all a careful 
study, and soon there came intimations that a 
pardon would be granted. At first I had little 
faith that such would be the case, and my friends 
were too considerate to excite hopes before they 
were positive; but the belief that I was to be set 
at liberty became so general among the prisoners, 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 377 

and I heard so little in contradiction, that in spite 
of all the self-control I could summon, I found my- 
self " waiting for the verdict " in a way that I had 
never been conscious of waiting before. 

As the days passed, the rumor that I would 
surely be pardoned on Christmas grew more and 
more current, and all the night before that day, 
memories of the past, thoughts of the future, 
doubt, faith and a sense of the awful wrong I had 
suffered kept me company in rapid alternation. 

When morning came, I feared that I could not 
sit up throughout the day. After a little time, 
one of the guards came to me with orders to take 
me over to the chapel, but I found that m^ nerves 
utterly failed me, and I told him to go back and 
tell the warden that I could not come. He insisted 
on carrying me if I could not walk, but finally 
returned, and soon the warden came over, accom- 
panied by Dr. Byers of the board of state charities. 
They had thought I surely could go over to the 
chapel, but they had not calculated the mental 
•strain I was under. The warden saw my condi- 
tion, and they went back to conduct the services. 

After the services in the chapel were concluded, 
Warden Coffin and Mrs. Coffin, Chaplain DeBruin 



378 THE LIFE STORY OF 

and Mrs. DeBruin, Dr. Byers, Mrs. Pettit, Mrs. 
Taylor, Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Fisher and a host of 
others came over, and I was called into the main 
room of the female department. I knew what 
was coming, but yet could not realize that the 
hour I had hoped for, prayed and watched for, so 
many years, had at last come. Everyone had 
been so considerate that they did not want to say 
a word definitely until the paper that was to un- 
lock those iron doors was ready for my hand ; but 
I had begged of Mr. Rankin to give me some idea 
of the facts, and he had done so. 

After making an address, prepared by him for 
the occasion, Dr. Byers presented the pardon, and 
Chaplain DeBruin invoked a blessing. 

I was free ! 

The friends all came up and congratulated me,. 
but I could think of nothing but the paper I held; 
in my hand. I was free — those iron bars could no- 
longer hold me; I could go out into the world 
again— free ! 

Mr. and Mrs. Coffin wanted me to remain a few- 
days and make fuller preparation for leaving the 
prison, but Mrs. Taylor had waited too many 
years for that time, to delay the home-going, to> 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 379 

her own house and family, for me, and so, many 
and willing hands helped to pack up the effects 
that were called mine. Chaplain DeBruin had 
ordered a trunk for me, boxes were furnished and 
I was allowed to take every article that I prized, 
either as a keepsake or otherwise. The matron 
could have prevented my taking many little arti- 
cles that were dear to me, from long association 
or as gifts from friends, but instead of doing so, 
she aided me in every way, even giving me money 
from her own purse to help me on in the outside 
world. I have had some experience in both giving 
and receiving charity, and I can say that under 
some circumstances and from some sources it is 
not humiliating to receive it. 

For many years it had been a custom with the 
prisoners to have a Christmas-tree for my especial 
benefit, and they had determined that the last 
Christmas I was to see there should be no excep- 
tion. So they prepared the tree, and I received 
many little presents. Thoughts of those small 
tokens of the kindness of my fellow-sufferers will 
always be associated in my mind with the one 
great boon that was granted me on that day. 

At last we were ready, and the prison carriage 



380 THE LIFE STORY OF 

and wagon were waiting. Then came the last — 
and the first — parting irom the scenes and asso- 
ciates of over eighteen years. The last look into 
thecell where I had spent so many days and nights 
of torture and weary waiting; the farewells to 
officers and all others who had so kindly watched 
over me; and the good-byes, with a little, silent 
prayer, to those who were yet in bondage. 

Evening had come and the lights outside were 
burning when friendly hands helped me down and 
out into the clear, cold, but free air of that 
Christmas day. At last I was out of the toils of 
the infamous plotters of twenty years. 

Almost nineteen years before, when a compara- 
tively young woman, owning valuable real estate, 
with plenty of money and expensive and fashion- 
able clothing, I had been taken from a comfortable 
home, without warning or just cause ; yet, on that 
Christmas night I stood just outside the walls of 
a prison that had held me over eighteen years, an 
old woman— in my sixtieth year, broken and feeble 
in health, robbed of all my property and a depend- 
ent on the charity of my friends. And all this 
for — nothing. 

Are there any who doubt that assertion ? 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 381 

If there are, let me say that I am too near the 
gates of eternity, and, having many, many friends 
who accept it without question, have too little of 
public favor to gain, to make falsehood any tempt- 
ation. And I thanked God on that night for the 
one thing left me — innocence of all crime. 

Mrs. Taylor, Mrs. Coffin and Mrs. Fisher were 
with me, and some of the prisoners had been 
allowed to see me into the carriage. The city was 
all lighted up, and the ride to Mrs. Taylor's seemed 
to me like some unreality that could not last. 

But when we arrived at Mrs. Taylor's home — 
and mine, as she said— I was still more certain that 
I was in some other world. When I went into the 
parlor of that house — the first residence I had been 
in since I left my own, so many years before— my 
thoughts and feelings were not such as can be 
written. It was all illuminated to welcome the 
poor, freed prisoner, and comfort and happiness 
were all around me. I found it hard to believe I 
was amidst such surroundings, alive and free. 

Finally little Edith Rankin, a grand-child of 
Mrs. Taylor, came to me with her doll, arid told 
me she had a kitten. That sounded like reality, and 
I offered up a little prayer of thankfulness to God 



382 THE LIFE STORY OF 

and to his earthly servants, Governor Foraker, 
Attorney Rankin, Mrs. Taylor and all the merciful 
helpers, for my deliverance. 

After a time, Mrs. Taylor said we would have 
tea before I went to my room, which was all 
prepared for me. 

"Come, now," she said, "tea is ready." 

Dear friends — which I trust you are— I had not 
eaten at a table with others in nearly nineteen 
years, and what was I to do? My meals had 
always been brought to my cell, as I never ate at 
the table with the other prisoners. 

I told Mrs. Taylor I could not go, but she said, 
"Oh, yes ; we must have you with us to-night." 

I went, and sitting there in that family circle, 
listened to the blessing invoked by Mr. Taylor and 
became more at ease than I had thought possible. 
I do not know how I conducted in regard to table 
etiquette, but I acquitted myself sufficiently well 
not to be relegated to solitary meals. 

I was soon shown to my room, a large, airy, 
comfortable apartment that had been thoughtfully 
given up for me by Mrs. Rankin, Mrs. Taylors 
daughter, that I might be near the dining-room 
and family. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 383 

I had not been long in my room, before a news- 
paper reporter called and asked an interview. I 
said I would see him, certainly, and Mrs. Taylor 
brought him in. He could not entirely repress his 
surprise that I was not quite so hideous and 
terror-striking as I had been painted, but he was a 
very gentlemanly young man, and I answered his 
questions to the best of my ability. 

Then came rest — rest in a beautiful room in a 
civilized home, emancipated, out of a living death 

— FREE. 

Although the act of Governor Foraker in par- 
doning me was but one of justice, and one in 
which he was fully upheld by the circumstances of 
my conviction as well as the number of years I 
had been in prison, still, the law left the decision 
between right and wrong with him, and I had 
learned long before my release, that to see justice, 
required an equitable mind. So when I began to 
realize that I was free, and had been freed by a 
comparatively young man, I thought— not so 
much of the governor as of the mother who had 
so taught her boy that he was able to properly fill 
the high office he held. 

The very next day after my restoration to free- 



384 THE LIFE STORY OF 

dom I was summoned as a witness in the noted' 
tally-sheet forgery case. I did not like that phase 
of liberty, but court trials seemed to have a part 
in my life, and I submitted with as good a grace 
as I could command. I was taken to the court- 
house, and although the parties interested were, 
I believe, neither helped nor hindered, I am sure the 
ride benefited me. 

Man}- called to congratulate me, among them 
being a friend of my childhood. Despatches and 
letters arrived from every direction. Many of 
them were from entire strangers, who rejoiced 
only because the right had at last won. Every 
message was received with deep gratitude, and I 
take this means of saying to the senders that their 
little words of joy were a great balm to a sadly 
wounded heart. 

My condition at first did not admit of my going 
out much, as I would fall down like a child at the 
least obstruction in my way; but my strength 
increased rapidly, and after a time I concluded to 
venture a ride on a street-car. I first went to the 
governor's office, but did not find him in. I then 
called on one of the Women's Christian Temperance 
Union ladies, Mrs. Candee, who had been my 
friend for years. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 385 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

Mrs. DeSellem Speaks— Helpless as a Babe— Traces of 
Suffering— For Christ's Sake— Listening at the Cell 
—Waiting for the Verdict— Divine Assurance— Holding 
a Lecture — Simeon's Words Repeated— What Mrs. 
Taylor Says— Doubts of Guilt— General Character- 
istics — Newspaper Opposition — "We Knew Better" — 
Mrs. Pettit's Experience — R. B. Hayes — Mrs. Grif- 
fith's Work— Ho adly— With Tearful Eyes. 

STATEMENT OF MRS. L. V. DeSELLEM. 

IN 1868 I was matron of the female department 
of the Ohio penitentiary, and when I first 
heard of Mrs. Victor, I was told that she was a 
fast, extravagant woman, who, not having as 
much money as she desired to spend, had got her 
brother's life insured and then killed him to get 
the insurance. Of course, I thought the state 
prison the proper place for her, and I was some- 
what impatient over the delay in bringing her 
from the asylum at Cleveland. 

Finally, one day, word was sent to me in my 
department that Mrs. Victor had arrived, and 



386 THE LIFE STORY OF 

was being brought over. I opened the outer door 
and saw two men, the steward and another, 
bringing a woman who was as helpless as a babe. 
They sat her down in a chair, and left her with 
me. She immediately began to show me her dolls 
and talk to me about them like a child. She had 
over a dozen, none of them over a finger in length, 
and some hardly half that, all made out of bits of 
white muslin or calico. Each had a name, and 
was tenderly cared for. She had, also, a few 
calico patches, with which some kind heart had 
provided her, to give her feeble mind something to 
act upon. Those comprised all she had except the 
clothes on her body. 

She looked up at me with such a sorrowful, 
piteous face, upon which the traces of suffering 
were so plainly to be seen that my heart was 
strangely and irresistibly drawn to her. She 
seemed to me to be as innocent as she was help- 
less. 

I had been matron a number of years, which 
had given me some knowledge of prisoners, and I 
asked myself, "Can this be a wicked woman?" 

Then there came over me a feeling that a great 
trust had been put in my hands, whom I should 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 387 

deal as tenderly with as with a child, for Christ's 
sake. 

From that hour, I suffered with her, how much 
God and myself only know. Public opinion was 
all against her, and some seemed to think it their 
duty to add to her sufferings. 

Her sentence was, as the Honorable George L. 
Converse said, the quintessence of cruelty ; as no 
man or woman had ever before been sentenced to 
solitary confinement for life in the Ohio state 
prison — and that, too, on circumstantial evidence. 
For some time effort was made to carry out the 
sentence, but mercy finally prevailed, and the 
directors, God bless them, allowed me to treat her 
as the others. 

When her memory began to return, the last 
things she had known seemed to be the ones her 
mind took up. The more fulh r her mind became 
restored, the greater was her suffering. I watched 
and listened with intense anxiety to her words as 
she talked and implored by the hour. 

When she was able to walk in her cell, she would 
pace back and forth, many times all night, thinking 
the jury was still out. I have gone silently to her 
cell door at night and sat for hours listening to 



388 THE LIFE STORY OF 

hear if one word savoring of remorse or guilt 
would be spoken. I wanted to know the truth. 
But never one word of the kind did I hear, and 
nothing but kindness for others and agony over 
their treatment of her. 

She would call for her brother, whom she seemed 
to love more as a child than a brother (and I have 
since learned that she was like a mother to him) ; 
then she would call to her sister in the most implor- 
ing terms to "come away from those wicked men, 
and tell the truth " — that her sister knew that she 
loved and cared for their brother. 

She would have dreadful spells of sickness, when 
her -mind would be gone and she would seem as 
one dead, for days. At one of those times I was 
assured in my mind that she would never die in 
the prison, and although she was several times in 
the same state afterwards, my faith never failed 
me. Yet, many times after that, when we met with 
so many disappointments, I would have been glad 
to have seen her freed from her sufferings. 

On April 15, 1870, I left the prison and began 
working for her release. When she was stricken 
with paralysis, I was in a distant part of the 
state; but word was sent me that she was at the 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 389 

point of death, and that if I would come and take 
her, I could have that privilege. I went at once, 
and when I arrived at the prison, I found the phy- 
sician giving a roomful of students, from a college, 
a lecture over her half dead body. They then 
concluded that there was a possibility of her 
living, and they had better keep her. 

Oh, at the final judgment, there will, I fear, be 
some governors and doctors who will wish they 
had been more merciful. 

I need not go into the details of how the clerk of 
the prison found there was an error in her papers 
of commitment, and that she had not had the priv- 
ileges the law allowed her. Then we began to 
work for her release on habeas corpus. 

Her cause was ably plead by Honorable George 
L. Converse, before Judge Bingham, and Judge 
Bingham granted an order to have her removed 
to the county jail. We felt sure that if we could 
once get her out of the prison, she would never be 
taken back, but here came a sore disappointment. 

The female department at the county jail was, 
at that time, hardly fit for animals, much less, 
women. Sheriff Horn went to the prison, but 
when he saw Mrs. Victor, he said he would not 



390 THE LIFE STORY OF 

take so delicate a lady into such a place, as it 
would cost her her life. I wanted to put in a bed, 
fix up the windows and make the place as com- 
fortable as might be, but the decision was against 
it. So matters remained till the supreme court 
reversed the decision of Judge Bingham. 

I visited the governors and laid her case before 
them repeatedly. I think Governors Foster and 
Bishop felt inclined towards clemency, but delays 
and mishaps occurred in furnishing papers to sus- 
tain them, and they had not the courage to par- 
don on what they had— or perhaps the right time 
had not come. I fully believe there is some great 
purpose to be worked out by this woman's life 
and great suffering. 

I found, when she became able, that she must 
have some employment, and, with others, I 
furnished her with material for such light work as 
she was able to do. She displayed great skill and 
ingenuity in fancy work, and did much of it, as 
well as that more substantial. If all the work she 
did while in prison could be put together, few 
could believe that one pair of hands could have 
done it in less than a lifetime. When not able to 
sit up, she would sit in her bed and work, many 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 391 

times the greater part of the night, when she 
could not sleep. Working with her hands seemed 
to relieve her over-taxed brain. I am sure she 
would never have fully regained and retained her 
reason, had she not been allowed to work. She 
was furnished a light in her room, to use as she 
needed it. 

She suffered greatly when she found she was 
really in prison. To associate with such as the 
majority of those about her were, was a great 
trial, and she never attempted it except to treat 
everyone kindly. If any were in trouble, she 
always had some good advice to give, and it was 
often taken to the benefit of all. She was a 
natural nurse, and full of sympathy, always had 
a remedy that was simple and sensible, while the 
last thing she had would be given with real 
pleasure to the sick and suffering in body or mind. 

In appearance and actions, she was alwa} T s a 
lady. I never saw an improper act on her part 
nor heard an improper word from her lips. Then, 
she was always cheerful and hopeful, under dis- 
appointments and discouragements that would 
have utterly crushed an ordinary person. Few 
made her acquaintance who did not become her 



392 THE LIFE STORY OF 

firm friends, and few have in a whole life- time 
made as many friends as she did during her life 
in prison. 

For a number of years ill health has kept me 
from Columbus, but I was in the city last winter, 
and was assured that Mrs. Victor would be free 
on Christmas. I was obliged to leave before that 
time, and I felt like saying as did Simeon of old, 
"Now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace,' ' 
for thy promise is fulfilled to thy handmaid. 

L. Y. DeSellem. 

Columbus, 0., Sept. 7th, 1887. 

STATEMENT OF MRS. JAMES TAYLOR. 

After the Women's crusade, I took charge of the 
Sunday-school in the female department of the 
Ohio penitentiary, under the direction of the 
Women's Christian Temperance Union. Previous 
to that time I had become somewhat acquainted 
with Mrs. Victor, through visits to the prison, but 
after I took charge of the Sunday-school and was 
obliged to make my visits more frequent, going 
every Sunday, and often through the week, I had 
a better opportunity to judge of her character. 

I watched her actions closely, and the result 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 393 

ivas that I became more and more interested in 
her, and began to doubt that a woman showing 
the kindliness of nature she always did could be 
guilty of so heinous a crime as was the one of 
which she was convicted. Her deportment was in 
no way that of a guilty person. On the contrary, 
she was always cheerful, patient and kind to 
other prisoners, and generous to a fault; doing 
more for the poor and unfortunate than many 
who had their liberty and ample means. 

Her busy fingers have covered many pairs of 
cold little hands and feet, and many dollars have 
been derived from the sale of her neatly-done 
fancy-work, at the fairs and bazaars held for the 
benefit of the different churches and temperance 
societies of our city. 

Before she regained her reason, she would, at 
times, play with dolls, like a child, and at other 
times imagine some poor family suffering from 
want, and would be so busy piecing quilts that 
she could not take time to converse with me. 

After her reason returned she was very ill for a 
long time, several times being very near death; 
but never in all her wanderings of mind did she 
.acknowledge being guilty of any crime. 



394 THE LIFE STORY OF 

About the year of 1873, having been long con- 
vinced of her entire innocence, I commenced 
working for her liberty. But I met with many 
obstacles; the newspapers always being worse 
than all else. As soon as an effort for a pardon 
would become public, the papers would seem to 
rival each other in their efforts to defeat it. Their 
statements were often contradictory and beyond 
the belief of any sane person, but the governors 
would meet us with them, and claim that the un- 
lawful state in which Mrs. Victor was said to 
have been living was sufficient to destroy all confi- 
dence in her. We knew better, and worked on till 
we succeeded. 

There were others who worked for her, and 
whom, I trust, will speak for themselves. 

Mrs. James Taylor. 
Columbus, Ohio, August 17, 1887. 

STATEMENT OF MRS. M. H. PETTIT. 

I first became acquainted with Mrs. Sarah M. 
Victor during the time that Rutherford B. Hayes 
was serving his second term as governor of Ohio. 
My sister, Mrs. M. E. Griffith, then engaged in 
the Women's Christian Temperance Union work 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 395 

in this state, while spending the winter in this city, 
frequently visited the female department of the 
Ohio penitentiary to hold religious services with 
the convicts. Her attention was called to the 
"life prisoner ;" she heard her sad history, and, 
after many interviews with her, became convinced 
that she was innocent of the crime of which she 
was convicted. 

Thus impressed, my sister called upon Governor 
Hayes, presented the case and appealed to him to 
pardon the prisoner. The governor received her 
kindly, and encouraged her to go to Cleveland 
(which she proposed to do) and investigate the 
case. Mrs. Griffith accordingly went to Cleveland, 
secured the assistance of our brother-in-law, S. B. 
Marshall, of Detroit street, and spent two weeks, 
in that time interviewing Judges Ranney and Cof- 
finberry, Attorney Adams and others ; also, many 
of Mrs. Victor's former neighbors, all of whom 
seemed willing to give testimony in favor of Mrs. 
Victor, with one exception— Judge Foote, who 
pronounced the sentence of death upon the pris- 
oner, closed the door in the face of Mr. Marshall as 
soon as Mrs. Victor's name was mentioned, thus 
declining to give any information regarding her. 



396 THE LIFE STORY OF 

Having written down the testimony thus se- 
cured, and having the names of the more impor- 
tant witnesses attached by their own hands, Mrs. 
Griffith returned to Columbus and submitted the 
information obtained to two prominent attorneys, 
who said it was testimony that would stand in 
any court. 

Then, with confident hope of favorable action 
Tjy the governor, accompanied by myself she went 
to him and presented the testimony. He treated 
us courteously, but listened partly in silence, with 
contracted brows and compressed lips, which 
indicated a resolution already formed not to grant 
the pardon. 

"You must confess, governor, that this is very 
strong evidence," said Mrs. Griffith. 

"Yes, it is," he replied, "but I have letters on 
the other side, and I cannot pardon Mrs. Victor." 

Mrs. Griffith's car fare to Cleveland and return 
was paid by Mrs. DeSellem, a former matron of the 
penitentiary, who so fully believed in Mrs. Victor's 
innocence that she cheerfully made that and many 
other sacrifices for the purpose of securing the 
coveted pardon. 

After this, Mrs. Griffith was still a sympa- 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 397 

thizing friend of Mrs. Victor's and sadly grieved 
that her efforts had been unavailing; but she 
removed to a distant state, and I remaining, 
occasionally visited the prisoner, always hoping 
for her release from a bondage that seemed so 
unjust, and watching her words very carefully in 
each interview. I sought to find from her own 
words and actions convincing evidence of either 
innocence or guilt. 

On more than one occasion, she assured me that 
her faith and trust in God were so strong that if 
she would be compelled to relinquish them in order 
to obtain her freedom, she would tell the governor 
to "keep the pardon," and leave her in possession 
of her faith and trust in God. 

One day when I entered her room, from the "out- 
side," she found a little "lady-bug "that had clung 
to my garments as I passed through the yard to 
the prison. The poor woman caught the bug with 
exclamations of delight, and fondly caressed it in 
her emaciated hands, saying it had been "so long 
since she had seen one!" 

That was a lesson to me, and I said, mentally, 
'How little we who have the precious boon of lib- 



398 THE LIFE STORY OF 

erty appreciate the beauties of Nature, and the 
familiar favors of God!" 

I cannot remember ever to have heard Mrs. 
Victor speak harshly or unkindly of even her 
bitterest enemies, and she seemed too refined and 
gentle, and of too benevolent a nature, ever to 
have thought of committing such a deed as she 
was supposed to have done. I was impressed 
with this, and also with the fact that so many 
Christian women were seeking for her release and 
remarkably led to intercede for her as though 
hers was not an ordinary case of actual crime. 
And when I went to the Throne of Grace earnestly 
beseeching to know what I should do for her, and 
whether she was guilty or not, the answer "not 
guilty" seemed distinctly written before me, and 
thus energized, I felt that I must continue every 
effort within my power to have justice meted out 
to her. 

Near the close of Governor Hoadly's adminis- 
tration, accompanied by my dear friend Esther 
Pugh, treasurer of the World's Women's Christian 
Temperance Union, I called upon him and appealed 
to him in Mrs. Victor's behalf, pleadingly asking 
him to do something for her. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 399 

Governor Hoadly's quick reply was, "I have 
recently had a personal interview with Judge 
Jones, and am convinced of her guilt, and believe 
she should remain where she is. If }^ou desire any- 
thing for Mrs. Victor, you must look to my suc- 
cessor, Judge Foraker." 

Thus peremptorily dismissed, we sadly turned 
away to await opportunity for a more humane 
hearing, which, I am happy to say, was granted 
in the near future. 

A few months after Governor Foraker's inaugu- 
ration I was again urged to use what influence I 
might have in behalf of this poor woman for 
whom for so many years we had been working 
and praying, praying and working. Accordingly, 
in company with W. G. Hubbard, a minister of 
this city, I called at the office and made our re- 
quests known to Governor Foraker, who kindly 
assured us that he would give the subject his 
early attention. He did so, and the result is 
known. 

For Governor Foraker we all cherish the most 
sincere respect and admiration, because of this act 
of humanity, and his noble conduct and sympathy 
regardless of what his predecessors, for near two 



400 , THE LIFE STORY OF 

decades, had refused to do. May God's blessing; 
rest upon him and his family for the act. 

It was with quickened step and elastic tread that 
I hastened over the frosty pavement to the female 
department of the penitentiary, on Christmas 
morning, 1886, where we had the privilege of 
hearing a pardon, issued by Governor Foraker, 
read to Mrs. Victor. We stood with bowed heads 
and tearful eyes as we united in prayer and 
thanksgiving, offered by Chaplain DeBruin, and 
then came heartfelt congratulations to poor Mrs. 
Victor, who, after these long, weary years, was at 
last pronounced a free woman, and restored to 
the world. 

I am very thankful that she has her liberty, and 
believe that God himself will recompense the inno- 
cent, and bring to judgment those who have so 
cruelly wronged the suffering one. 

M. H. Pettit. 
Columbus, Ohio, October 1st, 1887. 

The following is from a Columbus paper: 

Christmas day of 1886 will, indeed, be long remembered at. 
the Ohio penitentiary, since, in addition to the usual events, 
there have been pardoned out of the great reformatory two of" 
its most celebrated life prisoners. 




J. B. FORAKER. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 401 

The humane and charitably disposed persons of the state 
will read with gladness of Governor Foraker's clemency in 
pardoning Mrs. Sarah Victor, the life prisoner from Cuyahoga 
county. The former governors could not be prevailed upon to 
do it, but Governor Foraker, after hearing the presentation of 
the case and reading all the evidence closely and weighing each 
particle in the judicial balance, determined to release her from 
her confinement, thinking by so doing there would be no in- 
fringement upon the laws and that the ends of justice, if Mrs 
Victor is guilty, have been satisfied. 



402 THE LIFE STORY OF 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

Rev. I. H. DeBruin's Statement— Observations— "Tell 
Them I am Innocent"— Charge not Sustained— State- 
ment OF G. S. INNIS— " I AM NOT GUILTY "— GRAVE DOUBTS 

of Guilt— Miss Hour's Statement— Good and True- 
Newspaper View— Mrs. Jones' Statement— Kind and 
Upright— Belief in Innocence— Home yet Open— Cast- 
ing the First Stone— Cincinnati Enquirer— Ohio State 
Journal — Columbus Sunday Herald. 

STATEMENT OF I. H. DeBRUIN, CHAPLAIN OF THE 
OHIO PENITENTIARY. 

1 BECAME acquainted with Mrs. S. M. Victor in 
May, 1880, and of course she was represented 
to me with the criminal notoriety attached to her 
conviction. 

When I first looked upon her in her tidy cell, or 
room in the female department of the Ohio peni- 
tentiary, and beheld her neat and tasteful dress, 
dignified and becoming manner, and withal a 
pleasing face, beaming with expression of kind- 
ness, after a then confinement of near twelve years, 
I thought, is it possible that such a face can cover 
such a crime as she is convicted of. 




Rev. I. H. De Bruin. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 403 

Fearing my sympathies might supplant judg- 
ment, I put on a coat of mail, so to speak, that I 
might not be overcome at my weak point, and 
submitted to the generally accepted condition of 
her case. 

As it became my official duty to visit the female 
department frequently as chaplain, and hold 
special services with the assistance of the Christian 
lady workers, whose visits and work were most 
cheerfully hailed, and as far as in my power, to 
afford spiritual encouragement, comfort and in- 
struction, my observations of Mrs. Victor, in all 
these services, were of a favorable character; as 
she was very respectful, reverential and deeply 
interested, and her manner had an effect on the 
other female prisoners to impress them with the 
value of a moral and religious life. Her example, 
of courtesy and refinement, modesty and pure 
language, commanded the respect of all the 
inmates, and was very elevating in its influence; 
so much so that in many instances she was sought 
for by them for counsel and advice in their petty 
troubles and personal differences. She was often 
a peacemaker and comforter. 
As I became better acquainted with her, in the 



404 THE LIFE STORY OF 

line of duty having frequent conversations with 
her and rendering her such favors as were prudent 
and humane, for her comfort of both body and 
mind, all of which she seemed to fully value, and 
for the least of which she was always grateful, I 
began more fully to consider her case, and analyze 
her character, and the result was very interesting 
to my mind. 

First, externally : In habit, systematic, prompt, 
regular, diligent, and very neat and cleanly both 
in her person and room — always presentable and 
in order. 

Second, in moral and intellectual traits : Chaste 
in conversation, and free ' from cant or common 
phrases, truthful, candid, conscientious, benevo- 
lent, kind, generous and grateful. 

With such characteristics, and her constant and 
unwavering protestation of innocence, I began to 
entertain serious doubts of her guilt, and after 
hearing her own statements, at different times, of 
the circumstances and history of her case, and 
finding them always agreeing, I examined the 
papers on file in the executive department. Find- 
ing her case in every leading particular resting on 
special circumstantial evidence, and the trial had 




Warden Coffin. 




i 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 405 

under the influence of public clamor and excite- 
ment, I then gave my thoughts to the philosophy 
of the case, not only to the doubts of guilt, but the 
probability of her innocence, with the following 
conclusion : 

If guilty, the crime must have been premeditated; 
if premeditated, cruel, heartless, depraved. 

Contra : At the death of her brother, not a 
breath of suspicion rested on her. Nearly a year 
elapsed before a question was even hinted at 
or raised, and then by ones who seemed to be 
moved to obtain money, for personal gratification 
or indulgence. 

Suspicion expressed, public clamor awakened, a 
desire to fasten guilt is gratified in the question- 
able results of a chemical analysis, which, if cor- 
rect, finds no other solution than it must have 
been administered with woful and criminal 
intent. To sustain this, the motive must be 
proven or manifest. 

I can conceive of but two causes that could lead 
to such a cruel, heartless and depraved crime, viz : 
revenge and covetousness. In this case, a young 
invalid brother in the care of his natural guardian, 
his eldest sister, between whom the strongest tie 



406 THE LIFE STORY OF 

of affection exists (save only that between mother 
and child), and no cause for unkind or revengeful 
feelings is known to have existed — but her con- 
stant care for, and attention to him was unremit- 
ting. Then, did covetousness, or the love of money 
to gratify personal ease, comfort, or selfish and sin- 
ful indulgences predominate so completely as to 
neutralize and obliterate a sister's affection for a 
brother? So far as is known, there was not the 
remotest cause for the awakening of such a 
passion. Living in ease and comfort, with all 
needed wants supplied, and added to this, both 
her previous and subsequent traits of character, 
unselfishness and charitableness, so clearly defined 
as to completely refute the assumption, leaves us 
the only conclusion in the absence of testimony — 
that the charge of guilt is not sustained. 

At different times during her long confinement 
was she brought near to death's door, and in 
every instance did she most solemnly assert her 
innocence. 

During the summer of 1885 she was very sick^ 
and though not at that time connected with the 
prison, I visited her several times, as her case was 
very critical, and on an evening when in the opin- 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 407 

ion of the physician she could not live over night, 
I visited her, as I supposed, for the last time. She 
recognized my voice, but could not see me, and 
could articulate only with great difficulty. I con- 
versed with her freely as to her departure and 
spiritual condition and resignation, and prayed 
with and for her, in which she was deeply moved 
and interested. I asked her if she was resigned to 
the will of the Lord . She replied that she did not 
want to die in prison. 

1 'But if you must die here, and probably before 
morning, can you not cheerfully submit to the will 
of the Lord?" I asked. 

She replied, "Yes, I must submit. He does all 
things well. ' The will of the Lord be done.' " 

I commended her to the Lord, and as I was 
about to bid her a last earthly farewell (as I then 
supposed), I gave her my hand, which she grasped 
with her remaining strength and said, "Good-bye. 
God bless you. Tell them I am innocent." 

Those, at the time, I supposed were her last 
words to me on earth. But, strange to say, she 
recovered, and after a prison life and experience of 
over eighteen years, lives to-day in the city of her 



408 THE LIFE STORY OF 

former home, through a kind Providence and the 
clemency of a kind, Christian governor. 

Mrs. Victor was not sentenced to labor for the 
state, but to solitary confinement, which was 
never enforced to the letter. She enjoyed the free- 
dom of the female department, but was always 
diligently engaged in some delicately made work, 
knitting lace, collars, tidies or tatting, and during 
holidays, by her own art and industry, distribut- 
ing to the destitute prisoners or visiting children 
and friends little mementos of her friendship. 

By permission of the prison authorities many of 
her productions of delicate handiwork were sold 
to persons visiting the institution, usually at a 
small price, but sometimes visitors from distant 
states, when passing through and desirous of hav- 
ing something to bear away, would gladly pur- 
chase, and often pay a more generous equivalent 
than she asked. As a result, in 1884, at the close 
of my first official service, I put in bank for her the 
sum of fifty dollars, the product of her hands. 
This was increased from time to time, until, at the 
time of her pardon, she had quite a little sum. 

During her long confinement, she was only twice 
outside of the female department— once on a 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 409 

pleasant Sabbath day, to attend preaching in the 
prison chapel, and on the Fourth of July services, 
some two years after, also in the chapel. 

The occasion of her receiving her pardon, at the 
hands of ex-Chaplain A. G. Byers, on Christmas 
afternoon, 1886, was one of impressive solemnity 
and deep emotion. While Dr. Byers, in a most 
impressive and appropriate brief address, delivered 
the document of state authority, she remained 
standing, and on receiving it from his hands, 
responded in a few well-chosen remarks of grati- 
tude, closing by calling on myself to offer prayer 
and thanksgiving. The scene was deeply affecting, 
and everyone present was moved to tears and 
emotion. 

Respectfully submitted, 

I. H. DeBruin. 
Ohio Penitentiary, September 30th, 1887. 

STATEMENT OF COLONEL G. S. INNIS. 

Upon assuming charge of the Ohio penitentiary, 
in April, 1874, I found Mrs. Victor an inmate, and 
generally in a small room fitted up for her special 
benefit. I had her case pointed out to me by 
Colonel Burr, the retiring warden. 




410 THE LIFE STORY OF 

Understanding from some source that her mind 
was not at all times bright, I watched her very 
closely. She seemed many times peculiar in her 
actions and talk. At times she was certainly 
bright if not brilliant. At other times she would 
seem very despondent, and then would talk 
unceasingly of her deceased brother. I never could 
determine in my own mind whether or not she 
was entirely sane until after a very severe sickness 
she had some time late in 1874. 

One day the prison physician, on coming from 
the female department said to me, "You will not 
have Mrs. Victor with you long. She is very sick, 
and will not live three hours.' ' 

I immediately went to her room, and found her, 
to all appearance, very near death. 

I then said to her, "Mrs. Victor, the doctor tells 
me you cannot live many hours. As you hope for 
pardon from the Great Judge of all, are you guilty 
of taking the life of your brother ?" 

She well understood the question, and replied, 
"As God is my judge, I am not guilty." 

Soon after this, one of her fellow-prisoners 
sitting behind her holding her up in the bed, she 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 411 

swooned away, and, as I thought, breathed her 
last. 

I said to the woman behind her, "Lay her 
down ; she has seen the end of all her troubles. " 

The stir of laying her down revived her, and 
she slowly recovered. 

After that sickness I never, at any time, had 
doubts of her sanity. But, sick or well, she 
always asserted her innocence, and I believed at 
the time, and believe still, that there were, to say 
the least, very grave doubts of the justice of her 
punishment. 

Very respectfully, 

G. S. Innis. 
Columbus, Ohio, September 9th, 1887. 

STATEMENT OF MISS R. HOUK. 

On May 16, 1880, I took charge of the female 
department of the Ohio penitentiary, and remained 
in the position four years and one month. Being 
so closely associated with Mrs. Victor for so long 
a time, I grew into a full understanding of her 
ways and character, and as soon as I came to 
know her thoroughly, I was convinced of her entire 
innocence of the crime she was charged with. 



412 THE LIFE STORY OF 

I do not think any person knowing Mrs. Victor 
well would for a moment believe her guilty of so 
awful a crime as murder. Many times visitors 
who had formed ideas from reading newspaper 
accounts of her would inquire which was Mrs. 
Victor. 

I would tell them, and such exclamations as, 
"What, that motherly-looking woman?" or 
"That intelligent-looking woman ? I thought she 
was one of the matrons," were almost sure to 
follow. 

Some would say, "Do you believe her guilty ? It 
don't seem possible!" 

She never wore the prison stripes during my 
time there, and had she been less of a lady than 
she was, some unpleasant results might have fol- 
lowed the mistakes made by so many in thinking 
her one of the matrons. But I always found her a 
true, good and affectionate woman, an excellent 
nurse, and one that sympathized with everybody 
in trouble. 

She was wonderfully cheerful and patient under 
all her sufferings, but that was accounted for to 
those who knew her— she was innocent ;. her con- 
science did not accuse her. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 413 

I have talked with many in Cleveland of her 
case, Mr. Joseph Perkins, now deceased, and 
others still living and in high office and position, 
and the same opinion was expressed by all — that 
her trial was a farce, and that if she had been 
properly defended, she would never have been con- 
victed. 

From all that I have heard, I believe her con- 
viction to have been a crime, and when Mrs. 
Victor and her enemies shall stand before the judg- 
ment seat of God, her innocence will be rewarded, 
and the guilty cannot escape on the plea that she 
is only a woman. 

Yours truly, 

R. Houk. 
Columbus, Ohio, September 11th, 1887. 

The following clipping, which more properly 
belongs among my prison experiences, I introduce 
here as in keeping with Miss Houk's statement: 

In company with the resident director, Mr. Loewer, we in- 
spected the female department, which is in charge of the 
matron, Miss Houk, and the assistant-matron, Mrs. Cline. 
Miss Houk being absent, we were shown through by Mrs. 
Cline, a jolty, good-natured woman of middle age. With the 
exception of the iron doors and grating, this part of the peni- 



414 THE LIFE STORY OF 

tentiary bears but little resemblance to a prison. Some of the 
cells are as large as an ordinary sized bed-room, and nearly as 
well furnished as those on the outside. There being but 
twenty-three inmates here, the discipline is more lax than in 
the male department. Mrs. Cline calls the inmates " her girls," 
and they seem to regard her almost as a mother. Her kind 
treatment of them has evidently won for her their esteem. 

Standing in the door of a large, roomy cell, fronting on and 
overlooking the street, stood a matronly-looking woman of 
perhaps five and forty. She was not dressed in the tasty 
prison garb, but wore a dress of some dark material. We sup- 
posed that she was a visitor or someone connected with the 
institution, until Mrs. Cline introduced her as Mrs. Victor, the 
life prisoner from Cleveland, who is in on the charge of poison- 
ing her brother. She invited us into her tastefully decorated 
cell, and showed us some fine work in lace and canvas done by 
her own hands. Mrs. Victor looks strangely out of place in 
this prison, surrounded by stone walls and iron bars. If she is 
guilty of the terrible crime charged upon her, then is her face 
and appearance but an indifferent index to her real character, 
for she does not look like a criminal. 

"Are you hoping for a pardon ?" we asked. 

"Oh yes, I could not live in this place without hope," she 
said. "When I cease to hope, I shall die." 

" How long have you been here ?" 

"Nearly sixteen years," she said, and her eyes filled with 
tears at the remembrance of the sorrows that she had experi- 
enced during all those long years of confinement. 

Sixteen years ! Think of it, mothers ! Recall the day when 
your sixteen year old boy was born, and think of each day 
that you have watched him grow almost to manhood and 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 415 

then try to imagine Mrs. Victor shut in by prison walls for all 
those long and weary days ! 

"Do your friends call to see you often ?" we asked. 

"Yes, indeed ; if it were not for my friends I don't know what 
I would do. They come quite often and bring me nice presents. 
Those ferns that you see there," pointing to an artistic design 
in flowers, " were sent me by a dear friend in California. They 
are much superior to those grown here." 

STATEMENT OF MRS. RACHEL J. JONES. 

In January, 1886, I became superintendent of 
the Sabbath-school of the female department of 
the Ohio penitentiary. Up to that time, I had not 
become acquainted with Mrs. Sarah M. Victor, 
and consequently my knowledge of her is limited, 
as to time, compared with that of many others. 

Yet, it is a pleasure to me to say that I found 
Mrs. Victor, even after nearly eighteen years of 
confinement in that place, to be so gentle and 
refined, and evidently so truly a Christian woman 
that I was constrained to believe her a victim of 
unfortunate circumstances, and not a guilty felon. 
Further acquaintance with her only increased that 
belief, and it soon became a firm conviction. I 
found her always kind, upright and reliable, and 
my visits to her soon became more a pleasure than 
a duty. 



416 THE LIFE STORY OF 

When the final steps were being taken for her 
pardon, my husband and I, being compelled to feel 
her innocent, consulted together and concluded to 
open our doors to her and invite her to our home 
as one of our own family. But, sister Taylor, the 
large-hearted lady to whose house Mrs. Victor 
went on her liberation, had extended the same 
hospitality, and on account of the much more 
lengthy acquaintance existing between them, her 
invitation was accepted. 

Yet, our house remains open to Mrs. Victor at 
any time she may wish to accept it, and she has 
had a place in my heart almost from my first 
acquaintance with her. 

I hope that all who read this will not forget the 

words of Jesus when he said, "Let him that is 

among you who is without sin, cast the first 

stone," and will do our sister, Mrs. Victor, simple 

justice. 

Rachel J. Jones. 

Columbus, Ohio, August 30th, 1887. 

WHAT OHIO NEWSPAPERS OUTSIDE OF CLEVELAND 

SAID. 

Columbus, O., November 12.— Today the celebrated case of 
Mrs. Sarah M. Victor, now serving a life sentence in the Ohio 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 417 

penitentiary, was presented to Governor Foraker for executive 
clemency. Mr. L. L. Rankin, of the firm of Rankin & Rath- 
well, appeared as the attorney for Mrs. Victor. This is one of 
the most noted cases in the criminal history of Ohio. 

She was convicted on circumstantial evidence only, and that 
was not of a positive character. The revival of her case 
causes comment on the streets of this city, and the universal 
sentiment of all classes is that she ought to be pardoned ; for 
guilty or not guilty she has served a long term and the ends of 
justice have been met. If innocent, and no man can swear 
positively that she is not, what a fearful punishment ! If 
guilty, the term she has already served is nearly three times 
that of the average life-prisoner, who, as a rule, either dies or 
is pardoned at the end of seven years. The board of managers 
of the Ohio penitentiary desire her pardon, and have so 
expressed themselves, not officially, it is true, but just as 
positively. 

During her long incarceration, it is a remarkable fact that 
there is not a single blemish on her prison record, a fact that is 
greatly in her favor. 

There is sufficient evidence in the governor's office to destroy 
the weight of the evidence of the chemist who examined the 
exhumed remains of the brother at the time of trial. If the 
half of the testimony on file against him be true, then ought 
Mrs. Victor to have been pardoned long ago. — Cincinnati 
Enquirer. 

Yesterda}- forenoon the case of Sarah M. Victor, the most 
noted, perhaps, of any in the criminal history of this state, 
was presented to Governor Foraker for executive clemency by 
L. L. Rankin, of the law firm of Rankin & Rathmell. This case 



418 THE LIFE STORY OF 

is one greatly celebrated because of the many attempts made 
by Mrs. Victor to secure her release from imprisonment and 
because of the doubt as to her guilt. 

The efforts for' the pardon of Mrs. Victor recall a peculiar 
case. This woman has been in the penitentiary almost twenty 
'years, three times the average of life prisoners, who sink under 
the depression of no prospects when the prison gate turns on 
them for life. Assuming that all the strongest points in the 
case are true, she seems to have been punished sufficiently for 
one convicted on circumstantial evidence, and leading citizens 
of Cleveland and elsewhere are now expressing themselves to 
that end. She has survived the long imprisonment in the hope 
of relief and restoration, and been as industrious as a bee in 
her cell, making a perfect prison record. 

She has made repeated attempts to secure a pardon, but has 
heretofore failed, owing to an opposition that has sprung up 
from Cleveland, though there are a great many prominent peo- 
ple of Cleveland who have signed petitions for her pardon. 
The suspicion is steadily gaining ground that these persons in 
Cleveland who oppose her do so from personal interest and 
:not out of a sincere desire that the guilty, or believed-to-be 
guilty, should be punished to the fullest extent of the law. 
This is evidenced by the fact that property to the extent of 
.$7,000 or $10,000 was in some way taken from Mrs. Victor at 
rthe time of her trial. Honorable Joseph Perkins two years 
ago regarded the opposition as a "systematic and paid oppo- 
sition," using his exact words. But the time has come when 
Mrs. Victor will probably be pardoned, though nothing defi- 
nite is known as to the intentions of Governor Foraker. 

As was said above, Mr. Rankin, the attorney for Mrs. 
Victor, presented her case yesterday morning to the governor 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 419 

for executive clemency. The governor will take the matter into 
consideration, and may not decide the case for two weeks, or 
until about the time of Thanksgiving, when the numerous 
friends of Mrs. Victor hope to hear the tidings of her pardon. 
Owing to the doubt and her long confinement, no person who 
lias not a personal interest can likely object to her pardon. 
The general sentiment everywhere appears to be that she is a 
worthy subject of executive clemency. The decision of Gov- 
ernor Foraker will be looked forward to with interest. — Ohio 
State Journal 

Mrs. Sarah Victor was yesterday released from the peniten- 
tiary, after serving eighteen j'ears in that institution. She 
was pardoned by Governor Foraker, who is of the opinion 
that she has been fully punished for her crime, if she was guilty 
of the murder of her brother, for which she was convicted. 

She has always maintained her innocence, and does so still. 
Social connections and personal affairs, not dealt of here, had 
made her powerful enemies in Cleveland, who, for years, fought 
her every effort to secure a pardon. At last, by the clemency 
of Governor Foraker, she is a free woman, and, old and 
broken, once more comes forth into the world after eighteen 
years' retirement. She went yesterday to the home of Mrs. 
James Taylor, 506 East Main street, where she will remain 
for a time, but expects eventually to return to Cleveland.— 
Columbus Sunday Herald. 

The announcement that Governor Foraker had granted a 
pardon to Mrs. Sarah M. Victor, the remarkable woman under 
a life sentence in the Ohio penitentiary, which was made exclu- 
sively in the columns of this paper Saturday, has caused, 



420 THE LIFE STORY OF 

probably, more discussion in this city, Cleveland and other 
places than any other one subject in the past two days. 
When Mrs. Victor is termed a remarkable woman it should be 
considered in the fullest meaning of that word, for no one 
could have any acquaintance with her without being firmly 
impressed with her strong character; and her terrible experi- 
ence, Christian fortitude and generous nature will never be 
forgotten by those who have once been acquainted with her. 
Several years ago, when Mrs. Victor was supposed to be on 
her death-bed and the physicians had abandoned all hope of 
her being able to rally from the shock of two paralytic strokes, 
the writer visited her and had a short conversation, in which 
he saw that the unfortunate woman was possessed of a most 
affable and entertaining disposition if she had only the physical 
strength. Becoming then interested in her case and at the 
time of her release (Saturday) rejoicing with thousands that 
justice had been done at last as far as possible, it was deemed 
of interest to the public that a short interview with Mrs. 
Victor should be published as soon as she felt strong enough to 
devote the time to the newspaper man. 

Yesterday afternoon, accordingly, a State Journal reporter 
called at the residence of Mr. Jas. Taylor, 506 East Main street, 
where Mrs. Victor is stopping, and spent an hour in conversa- 
tion with her. Mrs. Taylor kindly received the reporter and 
ushered him into a large, airy room, in which burned a bright 
fire, and stating that "this will be Mrs. Victor's home for the 
present." Mrs. Victor was seated in a comfortable chair and 
advanced to meet the newsman as he entered. Her face seemed 
not to have changed the least in the past few years, and her 
benevolent and matronly countenance had the same mild ex- 
pression as when first seen by the writer. As Mrs. Victor 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 421 

stood attired in a plain, loose-flowing morning wrapper, wear- 
ing her hair close down on her temples in a neat manner, and 
her face showing a more than ordinary degree of intelligence, it 
was hard to realize that such a person had endured nineteen 
years of prison life. Certainly no one would hesitate to pro- 
nounce her incapable of any crime, not to speak of the heinous 
offense with which she was charged. At once welcoming her 
visitor, Mrs. Victor, at the reporter's solicitation, talked at 
length upon her experiences and her feelings on receiving the 
good news of her pardon. 

"I first knew of it Friday," said she, " when Mr. Rankin, my 
attorney (and God bless him, for I can never repay him and 
the governor), called and told me that it was all right. Was 1 
overcome? No, not exactly. It would be difficult for me to 
describe my feelings. I was prepared not to be surprised 
greatly no matter what the decision, for I had been disap- 
pointed so much. For 3 r ears I have full} r expected a pardon, 
with a clear consciousness of innocence, and have gone to bed 
many a time saying, ' Well, it did not come to-day, but it may 
to-morrow. God knows I am a wronged woman.' Of course 
the knowledge of my pardon excited me so that I could sleep 
but little Friday night. Saturday when the official papers 
were brought to me I was very much affected. (At this point 
Mrs. Victor, who was weeping most of the time, gave way to 
her feelings for an instant, but recovering herself resumed 
speaking.) The girls (meaning the other prisoners in the 
female department) cried hard when they knew I was to leave, 
but all were, of course, glad of my release. They have often 
come to me for advice and I have tried to help them endure 
their troubles as they confided them to me. Many a one has 
told me that I had done them good by cautioning them 



422 THE LIFE STORY OF 

against quarreling. They always called me ' aunty ' and have 
waited on me in my illness with a devotion remarkable. While 
I am glad of my liberty, my heart clings to the unfortunate 
women now in that prison. Was I ever outside of the female 
department? Only twice, when I went through the yard to 
the chapel. Twice in nineteen years outside of that little place! 
It took me all day Saturday to get ready to leave. Mrs. Tay- 
lor helped me and in the evening we left, being driven here in 
Warden Coffin's carriage. Oh! the thoughts as I left that 
place. I wore the same dress out that I wore in, nineteen 
years ago. Here it is (and Mrs. Victor took it out of her 
trunk). It is a black silk. I wore that in the jail also before 
my trial. Mrs. Taylor had fixed it over for me to wear when 
I came out." 

Mrs. Taylor, who had come into the room with the reporter 
and Mrs. Victor, said that the latter had been treated badly 
by supposed friends. She (Mrs. Taylor) has known Mrs. 
Victor for sixteen years, and says that even her watch and 
other valuables have been taken. An effort will be made to 
recover some of the property. 

"No one knows what I have suffered," continued Mrs. 
Victor as her benefactress finished. "God knows my brother 
was dear to me, and to be accused of such a crime, and to be 
wronged as I have been, was hard to endure. I never could 
have endured it but for the hope that I might live to prove my 
innocence. God has spared me to this day and set me free, and 
I take some comfort in the fact that few people believe me 
guilty."— Ohio State Journal. 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 423 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

Letter from Warden Coffin— Worthy of Kindness— He 
who Tempers the Wind— Letter from the Matron— 
Not an Easy Task— Insurance Company Unpaid— The 
Life Lease— Letters Unanswered — Compelled to Go to 
Cleveland — Kindness of Friends— A Merciful Hand — 
Going to Cleveland— Sad Memories— This is the Place- 
Mr. Carlton Refuses— Engage an Attorney— Engage a 
Writer— Last Words to Friends. 



EXTRACTS FROM A RECENT LETTER FROM WARDEN 
COFFIN. 

U"\70UR letter of the twelfth just came to 
J_ hand, and in reply would say that I was 
much pleased to hear from you and to hear that 
you was well, as this leaves us. We had begun to 
think that you had forgotten the place where } r ou 
was obliged to put in so many long and tedious 
years, but I find that such is not the case. It 
would be unreasonable for me or anyone else 
to get such an impression, for I presume the inci- 



424 THE LIFE STORY OF 

dents of daily occurrence here became so indelibly 
impressed on your mind that time will never erase 
them. 

You speak of my kindness to you during the 
time you was under my charge, with appreciation. 
I presume I was no more kind than former war- 
dens, and I presume, also, that at no time was 
you more kindly treated than your conduct 
merited, for your own sake and for the good 
influence you had over the inmates with whom you 
came in daily contact. 

We now have twenty-seven inmates in the 
female department, and under the management 
of Miss Fitzgerald they are getting along very 
well. 

Mrs. Coffin's health is not very good, and at 
present she is away on a visit to some friends. 

I will now close, with the hope that this may 
find you well, and that 'He who tempers the 
wind,' etc., will watch over you through the 
balance of life's journey. 

Hoping to hear again from you soon, I am, 
Respectfully yours, 

E. G. Coffin. 
Columbus, Ohio, October 17th, 1887." 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 425 

^EXTRACTS FROM A LETTER FROM MISS FITZGERALD, 
MATRON. 

"Mrs. Victor, 

My Dear Friend: — I received your kind and 
welcome letter some time ago, and am glad to 
think you have not forgotten me. I think and 
speak of you often. 

You ask if I am alone yet. Yes, all alone, but 
getting along nicely. 

You will excuse my delay in answering your 
letter, as you know everything depends on me 
now, and you are aware that my task is not an 
easy one. 

I had to drop my letter-writing and go to wait 
on one of the girls who is sick. 

It is now time to let the girls out. 
Please write again soon. 

Your friend, 

Margaret Fitzgerald. 
Ohio Penitentiary, October 16th, 1887." ' 

With so many friends in Columbus, I had no 
desire to return to Cleveland, except to go, at 
some future time, and look at the graves of my 
loved ones there, but as I could get no information 



426 THE LIFE STORY OF 

in regard to my property, I began to feel that I 
would be obliged to go. 

I had learned that the insurance company had 
secured a judgment against me for the money that 
it was claimed I had defrauded it out of, but on 
writing to the company, inquiring if the judgment 
had been paid, I received an answer that no pay- 
ment had been made on it. So, even that much, I 
could get no trace of. 

I had written again and again to Mr. Carlton 
and others, but Mr. Carlton would never answer 
at all, and others were either evasive or unsatis- 
factory. But the life lease to my home had been in 
Mr. Carlton's care, and I learned that he had 
taken charge of the place ; so I concluded to write 
and request him to transfer the lease to a place in 
Columbus, that I might have my own home to' 
live in, and not remain on the charity of my 
friends. I had not violated the conditions of the 
lease, nor had the money paid for it been refunded, 
and I had neither received nor agreed to any prop- 
osition for such refunding. 

I wrote, but received no answer. I could get, 
neither from Mr. Carlton nor anybody else, any 
information of what had become of mv household 




SARAH M. VICTOR. 427 

goods, further than a letter from a tenant, saying 
that some of them had been taken away, by 
authority from whom, nobody seemed to know; 
and even my watch and some valuable clothing 
that I had taken into the jail with me, could not 
be or. was not accounted for. 

So I was compelled to go to Cleveland to show 
that I was yet in the body, and intended to re- 
cover, if possible, at least some portion of what 
legally belonged to me. 

When I told Mrs. Taylor of my determination, 
she said to me, "You go with our best wishes for 
your success, but if you fail, remember that our 
home is always yours, and that we will stand by 
you in the future as we have in the past." 

Such was the feeling of those who had helped 
me. I had great difficulty in getting Attorney 
Rankin to accept even the small sum of twenty- 
five dollars, for all his services. 

The family of Dr. Gray, of whom I have pre- 
viously made mention, had never believed me 
guilty of the death of my brother, and one of the 
daughters, living in Corry, Pennsylvania, had for 
a long time written me cheering letters while I 
was in prison. One of the sons, Albert, who was 



428 THE LIFE STORY OF 

married and living in Cleveland, had, also, written 
to me, and but three days after my release I re- 
ceived a letter from his wife, an entire stranger to 
me, saying: "I cannot express my joy over your 
Christmas gift. God has granted my wish." 

Her letter then said that both her husband and 
herself hoped and expected that I would make my 
home with them. "The last thing my husband 
said before leaving home this morning," she wrote, 
"was, 'Don't neglect to write to-day.'" It was 
quite wonderful enough that those little children 
of Dr. Gray's should have remembered me so 
kindly, simply because they had been Sabbath- 
school scholars of mine, but that a person who had 
never even seen me, should be such a friend, was 
still more surprising. I could not doubt that I 
was being upheld by a merciful hand indeed. 

So, feeling that I would not be friendless and 
alone on my arrival, I made preparations to start 
for Cleveland. Rev. DeBruin came over, and with 
Mrs. Taylor, took me to the train. 

The journey was full of sad memories, but thank- 
fulness for God's goodness in saving me to look 
again on Nature's works, free, and exonerated in 
the minds of those who knew me, was above all 



SARAH M. VICTOR. 429 

other thoughts. When I arrived in Cleveland, I 
took a carriage for Mr. Gray's. As the driver 
drew up before a house of less humble appear- 
ance than I thought Mr. Gray, being a laboring 
man, would be likely to occupy, I asked him if that 
was the place. 

"Yes, this is the place, and I am so glad you are 
here!" said a voice that was strange to me, but 
very cordial, and Mrs. Gray came out to meet 
me. 

I received a similar welcome from Mr. Gray, and 
at once felt very much at home with them. 

" We are young and can take care of you, if you 
can be contented with us," they both said. 

I accepted the offer, hoping that I might be able 
to repay them in a measure, but knowing that no 
money could ever fully repay the kindness of such 
hearts. 

I soon began to look after my property. Mr. 
Carlton refused to return the life lease, but offered 
to give me a few hundred dollars. I had no 
money with which to fee counsel, but one of Cleve- 
land's ablest attorneys, W. S. Kerruish, agreed to 
take the case without, and I commenced proceed- 
ings to recover the life lease. Up to the present 



430 THE LIFE STORY OF 

time, the case has not been called, but I have faith 
that justice will be done. 

Through some friends I was introduced to the 
lady who does the writing of this book for me, 
and who, like all the others, has worked without 
money. Finding so many kind hearts willing to 
assist me, I concluded to make Cleveland my home. 

I then returned to Columbus, told my friends of 
my intentions, visited the prison and came back to 
this city and to my work. 

Now, at the last, what can I say of all those 
who, together and under God, have held me back 
from death, driven away the demon of madness, 
and whose humanity has outrun the barbarism of 
my persecutors and enabled me to see this day 
sane and free ? 

What can I say of Mrs. L. V. DeSellem, who, 
with sight cleared by God's love, could see innocence 
through a dense cloud of prejudice, and seeing a 
duty, did it under difficulties that few can 
imagine ? What words can I use that will express 
the unswerving humanity of Mrs. James Taylor, 
who accepted all rebuffs and discourtesies of 
officials high or low at their proper value, and 
kept on at her work of mercy, denying herself 




SARAH M. VICTOR. 431 

time for many of the enjoyments that her position 
afforded ? 

What more could be said of Rev. I. H. DeBruin 
than that his sermons are as often deeds of kind- 
ness as words of comfort and instruction ? Hun- 
dreds of prisoners — and they are the ones who 
know — can testify to the kindness of just wardens, 
matrons and guards, and also of their fellow- 
prisoners. The public does not need to be told of 
that sisterhood of mercy, the Women's Christian 
Temperance Union, and I could give no adequate 
account of the deeds or number of its members 
who have come to me with help and words of 
cheer. Their names alone would fill too many pages. 

But, to those who have aided me and to all 
others, I can say with truth that I have never been 
guilty of any greater iniquity than I have pro- 
claimed in this book ; and to such dear friends as 
shall be left behind when I am called to pass into 
the future life, I wish to say that I have faith to 
believe I shall watch for their coming amid 
happier surroundings than of old, and to those 
going before me, that I trust they will watch for 
mine. 

THE END. 



